


A Change of Tide

by Jessah82



Category: Titanic (1997)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-18 00:30:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 43,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessah82/pseuds/Jessah82
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aimee Satterfield is a girl of aristocratic upbringing who holds a third class ticket aboard Titanic. Bitter and closed off, she must learn that "Steerage" aren't merely a people to be shunned. One person in particular will help her find that out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I watched listlessly as the room begin to fill with some of the dirtiest, poorest, most uncouth people I had ever seen in my life. We were supposedly about to have an after-dinner "shindig" which was evidently a ritual with third class passengers – a ritual I'd rather have skipped, were it not for a little less-than-gentle coaxing from my roommate.

My name is Aimee Satterfield, and after spending 23 of my 24 years among the crème de la crème of society, I "became" one of these people. The caste of society I had previously shunned, mocked, and avoided all throughout childhood and adolescence, I was now a part of. Maybe fate was trying to teach me a lesson, or maybe life was just unpredictable like this. At any rate, who I really blame is my lousy selfish father who squandered everything we had, and died leaving us nothing. Mother took us to England to see if assistance could be found in her estranged sister, but after that proved to be futile, there was nowhere else to turn. That's when Mother became ill and died as well... and in a month's time I was on my way back to America, by way of the _RMS Titanic,_ to figure out what to do next.

I would have really be pleased to stay in my room to do my figuring, but unfortunately I found myself rooming, among others, with a certain Keely O'Donnell – a mouthy Irish girl who had taken it upon herself to introduce me to her less than savory lot of friends who seemed to take high pleasure in doing some of the most mundane things. One of them consisted of sitting in a large common area late in the evening listening to drums and fiddles while a thick knot of drunks set about dancing and arm wrestling. It's what had been done the last evening as well, which was our first aboard the _Titanic_. How I wanted a nice conversation over proper tea with a handful of civilized ladies concerning the latest novel in the literary realm.

"Aimee!" Keely shouted above the carrying on, not missing a beat with her clapping. "Find a lad to dance with, go on!"

"I'm fine to watch." "What?" I leaned forward, raising my voice a hair. "I said I'm fine to watch!"

"Ah, you are, are you?" she smiled, with a hint of sauciness in her eyes. "Okay then, at least one of us should go have fun." With that, she stood up and walked off in another direction. Heaving a sigh and shaking my head, I pushed the untouched beer away from me and began to watch the clock, taking a strand of my hair and beginning to twirl it around my finger. My mother had detested the habit, but when a girl's uncomfortable and wanting to fidget, there isn't much else to do.

I'm not sure how long I sat there musing before all of a sudden, two brawny arms seemed to appear out of nowhere and I was hoisted into them. I shrieked as I felt my chair come out from underneath my backside, and when I looked over to see who was responsible, I didn't know whether to be angry or just startled. A merry-faced, curly haired not-so-gentleman was chuckling at my dismay while carrying me against his broad chest toward the dance floor.

"Wait! What are you doing? Unhand me-!" I began, but my words didn't seem to have any affect, and I happened to catch sight of Keely's laughing face over my shoulder, along with that of a couple other of her male friends. I should have known this would be her doing.

The fellow set me down once he reached the middle of the floor, but didn't give me any time to flee as he took my hands and promptly began to lead me into a spirited mess of a dance.

Suddenly the music was louder, the laughing more raucous, and the close contact dizzying. But somehow, the strangest thing seemed to happen in my mind: I realized being smack in the center of all this riotous behavior somehow... wasn't so bad? My heart pounded and my ears rang as I was twirled around by this man I didn't know on a rough plank dancefloor, every so often catching sight of Keely who was still standing off to the side. Maybe. My head was spinning too much to be sure of where anyone was.

At one point, the ridiculous look on her grinning face overtook me and I felt myself beginning to break out into an unexpected laugh. It didn't last long, however, because by the end of the song, I was regaining my senses enough to be annoyed. I turned to stare at my captor.

He gave an exaggerated bow, and when he stood again, gave me a quirky grin. "Tommy Ryan, Lass," He held out his hand, and I could tell from his lilting brogue that I was talking to an Irishman.

I felt my cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. "... You brute! How dare you behave that way?"

Not seeming bothered, he gently took my arm and sought to lead me back to my table. "Ahh, we were only havin' a bit of fun with you. Don't yeh see yeh need to lighten up? We've nearly a week on this ship, might as well wipe that sour frown off yer face."

I pulled away from him then. "And if I'm to be in your presence for more than a week, the least you can do is keep your hands to yourself!"

With that, I turned to go back to my room. I'd had about enough for one night. "Aimee? Aimee, wait!" I heard Keely call behind me, but didn't care. I turned a couple corners and ventured down the narrow hallways, completely lost before I knew it. "Dammit..." I grumbled, stopping to think.

I had no idea why I'd become so rattled over something so small. Feeling slightly guilty about it by then, the only explanation I had for myself was having been startled in the midst of an environment I still wasn't comfortable in.

Keely should have known better than that...

"Excuse me, Miss? Is everything okay?"

I looked up into a pair of green eyes framed by a boyish face. "... Yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

Sensing perhaps that this may not be the best time to talk to me, the young man only nodded and continued on.

"Wait," I called back. "Would you happen to know how I can get to 34B?"

He paused, turning around. "Sure. Straight down the hall, hang a left, then another left, and a right. The hall with one broken wall light already, can't miss it. By the way... Jack Dawson." He gave a friendly smile.

"Thank you," I replied, and would have simply gone on to find my room, but feeling I owed at least someone down here something after my display at the party, added, "I'm Aimee. Aimee Satterfield."

"Nice to have ya with us, Aimee," He smiled, and turned to go the opposite direction I was.

I sighed, somehow getting the feeling this was not going to turn out to be such an uneventful few days on a boat I thought it was going to be. It amazes me to see now how on target that intuition really was.


	2. Chapter 2

I dreamed about the piano again. Not just any piano... the grand piano my father had bought me when I had only been six.

"Darling, allow me to introduce you to a very old, very dear friend of mine," he'd told me setting me on his lap as he lifted the lid and gently ran a finger down the range of keys from right to left. "The gift it has given to me, I mean to pass to you. It's the timeless, universal language of music."

I hadn't been particularly interested in what he had to say at the time, opting instead to explore the pretty pattern of black and white keys myself. Only later did I realize how his love of piano truly was the only thing my father knew how to give to me during his life.

"Spend time with this piano, learn every key, each and every pure, unadulterated note it sings back to you. Then in time, you'll learn to listen to what it whispers to you when your fingers are placed against the ivory."

Lessons were rigorous; he saw to them himself. For hours he kept me at the piano, practicing what he'd taught me in the morning and listening to what he played for me in the evening. For the first two years, I abhorred the sight of the big black obsession my father kept in the parlour. I tired of it quickly, and wanted to be rid of his constant lectures surrounding it.

But one day, it's as though I woke up and everything had changed. I soon came to realize a day was not a day unless I'd started it out perched atop the stool... and evening must always end with a song.

That piano had been one of the first of our fine things sold at auction after my father's death. But it never left my thoughts, my dreams. Since then I'd sought out any piano I could find, finely tuned or not, to release my pent up desire to create music.

During the long spells of going without a piano, as this had been, I dreamed at night of furiously running like the wind up and down sharps and flats, watching measures and half-measures swirl throughout the air like tendrils of smoke. I jumped up to catch them and hoard them away like treasures.

I'm not sure exactly what time I woke up that next morning. There being only one window in our bunker, it wasn't as though the light spilling through it was enough to roust one from their dreams. All I knew was, the ceaseless din that had caused me to take awhile to fall asleep the night before was still there... just as it had been the night before that.

Third class accommodations were anything but quiet and relaxing. Not only were there several people packed into one room, there was also the continual drone of the ship's underworkings emitting from the areas just beneath our floorboards. The constant grinding of gears was enough to cause everything around one to vibrate, and of course there were the men who worked under there yelling orders back and forth in a monotonous fashion. The heat from the boilers could be likewise unbearable.

Sitting up, I looked about the room to see who was still asleep. The Danish sisters who shared the room with Keely and I were evidently already dressed and gone. It had been the same way the morning previously, and it wasn't uncommon to not see either of them until supper.

Before I could flop backwards onto the mattress again and cover myself back up, I forced myself to put my legs over the side of the bunk and stand up. After blinking a couple times, I turned back to see that Keely was still asleep on the bed over mine, arms and legs akimbo. Still irritated at her for the night before, I shook my head and grabbed up a few things to carry down to the common water closet to wash off and get dressed. At least, that was my intention before my eyes happened to catch sight of the small window and I noticed what appeared to be an angry wave sloshing up against it and covering it entirely for a few seconds.

"Oh God...!" I moaned, feeling sick to my stomach. I stumbled back over and sat down on my bunk to shake the dizziness.

I heard Keely sit up abruptly. "Wha...? Aimee, is that you? What is it, what's happened?"

Another wave hit and I leaned over, placing my head against my knees. "We're under water!"

My roommate was silent for a moment. "... What?"

"Look how close we are to the bottom of this boat, we're practically under water, I can't take it!" I whimpered, fully realizing how foolish I must look.

"... So what? The water's outside, and we're in here." I sat up in time to see her legs swinging over the side. "What's the matter with yeh?"

"I'm... horribly claustrophobic, Keely, it just bothers me to see water rising up over my head! Who on earth had the idea to put people's actual quarters down this low?" I shoveled two handfuls of dark curls backwards off my face. "It's dreadful!"

Keely's feet hit the ground suddenly, and I jumped. When I looked back up at her, she was standing in front of me with her arms folded, staring down. "... M'I to be stuck aboard this ship in a room with a blue-blooded brat?"

I straightened my back, a smidge indignantly. "What?" I retorted defensively.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Keely went over to the single mirror we had hanging up and picked up her brush, running it through her fine, blonde hair with a couple rough strokes and commencing to twist it and pile it atop her head. "Ya stormed off in the very worst way last night," she finally spoke, not taking her eyes from her own reflection. "All any of us were doin' was tryin' to get yeh to have a bit of light-hearted fun. Whether yeh want to admit it or not, it seemed to be workin' right up until the very end. Yer no better than any of the rest of us, yeh know." She paused long enough to lean over and splash water from the basin onto her face.

I sat speechless for a moment, surprised she actually had the gall to correct my behavior. "Keely, that's not how people behave where I come from! To just grab a girl and take her to the dancefloor is nothing short of savage."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever ya say." She set her brush back on her own shelf very deliberately and began to change into her simple dress. "I'm going for breakfast. I might see yeh down there if you can find it in ya to associate with the likes of us savages." In a moment, she was gone.

Sighing, I stood back up again and gathered my things to go down the hall like I'd previously intended. Thankful I'd chosen breakfast time to do this so I wouldn't have to wait in line, I gave myself a full bath and, with a bit of maneuvering, managed to get every last bit of my thick hair in the sink to wash it. One never knew how many other heads had slept on a pillow down here in these humble abodes, and I didn't intend to have to wander about it whether this was supposedly an unused ship or not. Afterwards, I carefully got dressed, trying a couple different things with my hair before deciding on pulling it all the way back with a simple barrette. Of course, "simple" may be a matter of debate, as it was one of the last nice things I was holding onto from my past. There were no jewels to embellish it, but it was a finely finished gold with carvings of cats, all huddled side by side in various positions from one end to the other.

It took me only an hour to get ready, but once I made my way to the mess hall (isn't that a dreadful name?), not only did it look as though everyone had already been through the line, most of the dishes had been collected, the floor swept, and not a thing left in the serving line to eat. It was all just then being carried away.

Hearing chuckles here and there that were no doubt completely unrelated to me and my plight, I still felt more foolish than ever and stood there only a moment, observing what was not left to be had before wandering away into the crowd, hoping I looked relatively unbothered by it all. Not sure quite what to do with myself now, I noticed people making their way toward the Third Class Deck, so I decided to join them.

The weather, tho increasingly nippy, was mild enough to enjoy on a level, so I quickly lost my displeasure in watching the horizon. Water is an element that never fails to amaze me. The way it so easily gives way and shifts when parted, then embraces whatever intruder had interrupted its calmness... as silly as this may sound, it's to be admired. On this occasion, I found myself envying that fluidity. Perhaps if I were someone more willing to give way and let go of my comfort in order to shift around and embrace change, I wouldn't have been as miserable as I was right at that moment.

"Ah! Miss Satterfield?"

Something was familiar about this voice, and when I turned, I saw why. Not realizing I had stopped walking and was holding onto the railing, the Mr. Ryan of last night had stepped up beside me and was leaning against it. I instinctively flushed, straightening. "Yes?"

The sturdy man unsettled me by his direct manner and unwavering gaze. "It's me again, I'm afraid," he chuckled wryly. "I'd been looking for yeh all mornin' to tell you how sorry I am for my actions last evenin'. It was all in good fun, y'see, but if I'da known you'd want to thrash me as much as yeh did after it, I'm certain I'da given it a deal more thought."

_What to say back to this loon?_

"The matter is done and over with, Mr. Ryan. I thank you for your apology, and... I accept it. Please speak no more of it." I continued to look out into the sea.

"... Well, er... alright then," he replied, sounding somewhat surprised the whole thing had been that easy.

"Good day," I dismissed him before he could speak again.

"... I do hope it is one, don't you?"

I turned to look back at him, taken offguard. Instead of leaving me alone as I'd meant for him to, he seemed to be making himself comfortable, having pulled out a cigar and was now busying himself with lighting it. Finally catching my stare, he raised an eyebrow. "Ah. D'you mind? Something else I should have asked first," he smiled amiably, waving the fire off his match. "I'd offer you one, but I somehow doubt you're... a smoking sort of lass."

After realizing my stare wasn't intimidating him in the slightest, I finally gave up and sighed, looking away once more. "No, I'm not. However did you guess?"

"Oh, little things, I suppose." Once again, he was completely serious. "You have a pretty face."

"Excuse me?" I turned back to him, startled.

I detected a flush upon his own this time. "Yer face, it's... clear and unlined. My mum always said that was a sure sign a lass hadn't meddled in cigar smoke." He punctuated this statement with a puff to the end of his own. "So, American are yeh?"

But before I was to think about answering him, my eyes lighted on another familiar figure strolling past us.

 _Mr. Dawson_ , the name came to me about the time he looked over and recognized one or the both of us. Grinning, he approached us. "Tommy!" he greeted my companion with a slap on the back before regarding me. "Well hello there! Miss Satterfield, right?" He took his place on the other side of me, jumping backwards up onto the railing casually.

I wasn't sure why, but I felt my face flush. "Hello, Mr. Dawson." "Ah, please call me Jack. Did you find 34B alright?"

"I-I did. Thank you for your assistance in the matter," I smiled.

Raising an eyebrow, Jack glanced over at Tommy. "'Assistance in the matter'? Sure thing."

Tommy whistled, chuckling. "Fancy."

Perfect – here was my opening. With a few statements about myself, I could surely impress Mr. Dawson and alienate Mr. Ryan all at once. "Yes, well my father was concert pianist Victor Satterfield..." but I trailed off, realizing that while Tommy was listening, Jack didn't seem to be any more. I followed his gaze to the First Class Deck, and straight to a refined young woman who strolled along the railing, looking the height of fashion in both appearance and mannerisms. As bad of a habit as it may be, I squinted slightly to see if it was anyone I could recognize.

Of course it was. Rose DeWitt Bukater. I was a couple years her senior in finishing school, but I remembered her keenly, as well as the rumors surrounding her own inheritance. Last I'd heard, it wasn't so much better of a situation than the one I had found myself in. Yet somehow Providence had naturally intervened for the girl, as she was the one on the top deck... and I was the one down here.

I felt a sharp jab at this thought, and an even sharper one when I realized how closely Jack was watching her.

"Och, bird-watching on the First Class Deck again," Tommy chuckled, nudging Jack. "And the very same lass it was earlier. Di'n I tell yeh you're more liable to have-"

"Angels fly out my arse, yes, I remember," Jack smirked. "... But I can't help it. Just... something about her..."

We all seemed to go silent as we watched Rose, each of us no doubt lost in our own thoughts. It was Tommy, naturally, who spoke first.

"So you were sayin', your father was a concert pianist?"

I was brought back to the moment then. "Yes... he was." I turned to them both suddenly then, an insatiable hunger rising within me. "Is there a piano aboard this ship? Anywhere?"

The two men looked at me for a moment, as though thinking.

"I think there may be one in the first class dining room," Jack replied first. "But good luck getting them to let you up there."

Surely there was a way. There had to be. I only needed to find out what it was. "Gentlemen, good day. I'm off to try that luck." With that, I walked away from them, feeling the need to furiously distract myself after the sight of Jack staring at Rose DeWitt Bukater.


	3. Chapter 3

I lost track of time as I sat at the piano in more familiar settings and closed my eyes, my fingers thundering out Tchaikovsky from memory. My father's favorite composer, and the inspiration for so many of his own pieces.

I knew it was probably only a matter of time before I was found in an area I shouldn't be in and escorted back to Third Class, but for the moment, the chain separating the decks and the dining area both went unguarded... and I meant to take advantage of it.

As the final chords of "August" faded away, I opened my eyes.

Modest clapping was coming from behind me. "That was positively beautiful," a woman's voice exclaimed. "Might I ask where-"

It was at that moment that I chose to turn around, and immediately wished I hadn't. Rose DeWitt Bukater stood a few yards away, and who knew how long she had been there, her pleased expression quickly overcome by surprise.

"... .Aimee? Aimee Satterfield."

I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment as I turned back to the piano, staring down at the keyboard. But Rose walked over anyway, stopping only when she was facing me.

It took me a moment to make myself meet Rose's steady gaze. I felt I would burst into a million pieces if I found one whit of pity in her eyes, but what I saw instead was a calm focus.

"Hello Rose," I finally managed to greet her coolly, after taking a deep breath. "Fancy us meeting aboard the same ship bound for the same place.

"Fancy it indeed," she murmured, seeming a bit uncomfortable herself. "... May I sit?"

I just looked at her for a moment, surprised, but nodded dumbly. She went over and took a chair from a nearby table, bringing it over beside me, and sitting down elegantly on the edge. My back straightened itself instinctively, and I wasn't sure what to say. Thankfully, she began.

"I heard what happened last spring."

"Yes, well," I had to pause to clear my throat. "I'm certain everyone has heard it by now."

She continued in a voice sincere, if not slightly troubled. "Please know that I'm... I'm terribly sorry."

I sat still, not knowing exactly how to answer her in a way that wouldn't drip with bitterness and sarcasm.

"It could have happen so easily to any of us, you know." There it was, the closest she probably dared to come to broaching the topic of her own shaky inheritance.

"Yes, well... I'm glad it didn't," I replied more curtly than I meant to, causing me to add on in a gentler manner, "These men who have always had large amounts of money at their disposal don't have the slightest idea how to save for a rainy day."

"I'm afraid you're right. I know all too well myself, and my mother never fails to remind me we sit precariously on the edge of losing everything."

I let out a rather unladylike snort as I shook my head. "At least we know who's father had at least a shred of consideration left."

Rose was quiet for a moment as I looked out the window behind her at the ever-moving water. "Yes, we do. It was yours."

Turning my eyes back to her, I felt something inside me bristle. "How could you possibly say that? He left my mother and I in a grave, the hole he dug was so deep."

Perhaps the poison in my voice and expression was far too evident. She watched me, shaking her head slowly. "Aimee, what has this done to you?"

Giving me no chance to retort, she continued. "Your father was the only one who came to visit his daughter at Bristolhaven. Not only did he dote on you, he lavished all the girls in the dormitory. He was forever taking us on sleigh rides and ice skating on the pond during the dull winter examination months..."

I set my jaw.

"Don't you remember the weekend dances in the town center he took us to, letting us stay out as late as we wanted within reason while he sat by himself on one of the benches? Not for one second would my father have endured that boredom, and the bother of learning small details about each one of us so he could ask us about them later. Yes, your father may have been generous to a tragic end. He should have been much better prepared for his sudden death, but he loved you and he showed it." Rose's voice was becoming sharper by the sentence. "If you only knew how often I wondered what I might do to pull my own father's attention away from the dice for even just a moment."

I cut my eyes to her again, my mind a muddle of snippy words I wanted to say back to her, none of which were coming together to form a coherent thought. "You have no idea what it's like," I finally managed in a tight voice. "Bedding with the rats each night, not being able to carry on an intelligent conversation with anyone-"

"But Aimee," she broke in, and suddenly I could tell that this was for some reason becoming personal for Rose. "You're free. Don't you see? Being a child of privilege is a grand thing when you're a young girl and have people to serve up what you want on a silver plate, but when you're a woman wanting nothing more than to break free of these chains, it's misery! It's misery to be told what to do, when to do it, and why. You may not have money in your pocket anymore, but you have something far better. You're on your way back to America as an independent woman with a fresh slate and no one to order you around. Does that not count for anything?"

"Oh, so being an orphaned steerage girl is something to be grateful for, Rose, simply because I can make my own decisions? I don't want to have to make my own decisions, do you even understand the gravity of that? To know that you are the only person you have, and you could so easily screw up your one chance at life because no one's around anymore to help guide you? Well if that's what you want, then by all means, let's trade places right now!"

She brought a hand up to her forehead in frustration, and I continued. "My father was a fool for thinking he could do as he wanted, noble or not, and it wouldn't catch up to him. If I ever find myself in better circumstances again, you can certainly believe I'll sit on everything I have if it means not having to endure this again."

Rose looked up at me again, speaking this time in a quieter voice. "The Aimee I remember from school wouldn't have said that. She adored her father, and talked all the time about how proud she was of the man. What's more... she was just like him."

I found myself dumbstruck, staring at her. Suddenly I didn't know whether I wanted to scream or burst into tears.

A small smile broke through her almost angry expression. "I came to Bristolhaven a timid little porcelain doll who didn't know the first thing about approaching a stranger, not to mention dealing with the catty older girls. You were one of the older girls, but on my third day there, you came to my room after dark when I was in tears and brought a box of maple scones your nanny had just sent you. Then you didn't just leave, you sat there with me and shared them."

My cheeks felt warm as I instinctively turned back around to the piano. "What's a box of scones in the scheme of it all? Such a simple thing."

"A simple thing, maybe, but enough to let a twelve-year-old girl know everything was going to be alright in a new world of strangers and rules."

I sat still, not knowing what to say.

"Certainly, if ever there was a girl I knew who could push past something like this, it was that girl." With that, she stood and walked out of the dining room.

Closing the piano lid finally, I rested my head in my hands. When I at last stood up to go back down to my own deck, I noticed outside the window that Rose stood next to the railing, appearing to be having a heated conversation with one very handsome, raven-haired man. I hung back, watching as she turned to walk away from him but was quickly caught by the arm. The verbal altercation continued for another moment before she pulled away once again and left the man standing there visibly irritated.

I thought back to what she had said about wanting freedom above all else. Did any of it have to do with this man she was with?

Shaking my head, I turned and took the discreet back exit to the deck, descending once again into my prison and resolving to put the conversation I had just had far behind me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welllllllll, we're all doomed to having those chapters every so often that we write, rewrite, and rewrite again, trying to capture the perfect spirit for it, but can't ever seem to manage it. This is my longest chapter yet, and is meant to be the beginning of a pivotal point in Aimee's mind as well as with the other characters. But I have the nagging feeling it's "lacking" in some way, so if it's something the rest of you are able to see when you read it, accept my apology in advance. I hope I've at least managed to make some sense. Also, I'm aware that Aimee looks like a total b*tch 90% of the time right now, but trust me, it'll all come to make sense. For now, it's perfectly cool NOT to like her that much, cuz heck, half the time I don't either.
> 
> In case anyone's confused, by the way, the evening mentioned in this chapter corresponds to the movie by being the same evening Jack is to intervene in Rose's suicide attempt. I started at the very beginning of the four days in this story in order to have plenty of time =)

Thanks to my encounter with Rose, I spent the rest of the evening thinking about my father, the last thing I wanted to do. Going back to my bed in our stateroom, I lay there feeling the pitch of the water around us as I also experienced the pitch of my emotions.

It wasn't that the things Rose had said about my father were not true. As stern as he may have been about teaching me music, he was the very opposite of a high-society father in almost every other way.

It had actually been difficult for anyone to imagine he was such a brilliant composer and pianist. Possessing big, broad shoulders I had loved to cling to onto as a girl, he had been said to look more the part of a brawny railroad engineer than a sophisticated musician.

"I love the music, Aimee. Not the game." He had said this more than once to me, and it wasn't until I was older that I understood what he meant. It hadn't been easy for him to get used to the aristocracy. Oh, he handled it well enough, but each time he would leave the dinner table for cigars and brandy with the gentlemen, I saw him looking longingly over at the music and dancing going on in another corner. I knew this was because the man loved dancing almost as much as he loved music. His only reason for refraining from it in public, I realized later, was because of image. The merry appearance of my father needed to be counterbalanced by a lofty demeanor which he only ever barely pulled off.

In the public eye, Victor Satterfield was a musical genius who had brought countless people from all over to their knees with his passionate piano playing. New money, perhaps, but he carried himself well enough to be able to keep up with it all.

By night, and after my lessons, my father was magical. He would hold me above his head, "flying" me throughout the hallways and up and down the staircases until my stomach ached from giggling. Then he would take his turn with the servants' children, a practice my mother silently disapproved of. You can imagined how much more fervently she disapproved when she found out he had set aside a treasury to send each of them away, as they grew up and prepared to leave, to lend them pursuit of their dreams. We discovered this after his death, when I was cleaning out a drawer and ran across a letter from the butler's son. The accounting books confirmed our suspicions.

"Philanthropic old fool," my mother had sobbed. "Now look where he's left his own family?"

My heart tightened the more I thought about my father, so I soon shut the flow of memories off, rising up from my prone position on my bed to head to the dining saloon.

The after dinner festivities in the general room were looking to be as lively as ever tonight, only this time I found myself sitting alone. Even Keely had decided to sit elsewhere, and even though I couldn't blame her for it, it also stung.

 _Oh well,_ I kept reminding myself _. I'm here to get from Point A to Point B anyway, not to make an army of friends I'll never see again._

"Cora," I suddenly heard from the bench behind me as I watched the instrumentalists tune up. "Sit down, Darling, you could slip."

I turned instinctively, and looked up to see a young girl with big, blue eyes framed by dark curls watching me curiously. When she saw my eyes, she smiled. "You have hair like me."

The man who had been calling over to her in the bench across from where she stood gave me a friendly smile. "Oi, she's a friendly little thing."

"It's alright," I gave a modest smile, and looked back to her. "Yes, it appears I do."

The little girl called Cora jumped down from the bench behind me and ran over to sit beside me then. "So does Margaret!" she exclaimed, holding up her little doll. "We like your hair-thing. Such pretty cats on it."

Scooting back on the bench and making herself comfortable, she continued to look me over. "Is your dress from a real store?" she inquired.

I looked down. This had been a dress leftover from more prosperous times, albeit much simpler than I was accustomed to wearing back then. I nodded. "Yes, it is. Do you like it?"

"Very much," Cora smiled. "You're very pretty."

I felt myself flush at this little girl who introduced herself to me and freely gave compliments. I seemed to remember being that way at one point in time myself. "Well thank you."

"Uncle Fabri!" she suddenly cried out, beaming, as a young Italian gentleman passed us. "I want to dance and I can't find Uncle Jack!" Hopping down from her seat, she turned back to me and handed over her doll. "Would you like to hold Margaret while I dance, Miss Lady?"

Chuckling at her name for me, I nodded. "I'm Aimee. And yes, I'll be happy to watch hold Margaret."

"Alright, thank you Miss Aimee!" With that, Cora was hefted, giggling, onto the Italian man's shoulders as they made their way to the dance floor. The man I presumed to be her father looked on, smiling.

"She's my pride and joy, that one," he spoke finally. "Loves to make new friends."

I smiled, watching her excitedly take her place in front of her dance partner, reaching her arm up to him.

"Uncle Fabri, Uncle Tommy, and especially Uncle Jack. We're not related to any of them of course," he continued talking, "I just try to teach her to keep titles in front of every grownups name she meets, even if only that. A more respectful thing, you see."

Nodding, I found myself wondering about Jack. I discreetly swept the room several times for him, but realized he couldn't be found. Driven by the special fondness I'd found myself developing for the handsome young man, and not knowing what else to do at the moment, I finished off my drink and got up. "Will you tell Cora I had to step out for just a moment to check something, and I'll return? Be sure to let her know Margaret was on her best behavior for me," I chuckled, handing Cora's doll over to her father.

"Yes ma'am, I certainly will tell her," he took the doll and gave me a friendly handshake. "But you'll not want to be going far without a coat. It's starting to get nippy out there, I believe we must be somewhere close to Greenland about now. Will you be needing one?" he implored, beginning to take off his own.

"Oh, thank you Sir, but I'll be fine. I'm only going out for just a moment. Thank you." I gave a wave to him as he nodded and turned his eyes back to find Cora among the dancers. I walked to the edge of the general room and ascended the stairs, leaving all the dancing and merriment behind me to go for a casual stroll along the deck. Perhaps Jack Dawson would be found there.

Just as I was making my way up onto it, I managed to catch sight of him, or at least I thought it was him, sauntering at a relaxed pace toward the ship's stern. From what I could tell from here, there were a cluster of benches a few yards away from the railing that were strangely unoccupied tonight.

My heartrate increased as I took a step forward, meaning to go up there myself and perhaps bump into the man. But the sudden appearance of a young officer caused me to pause, and I watched in disappointment as he sat down on one of the benches and looked over at Jack as though to make conversation. I sighed, deciding to try again later, and turned to go back to the party.

"Miss Aimee?"

I leaped backwards and clutched my chest. "Oh..!" There a few feet in front of me as I turned around was none other than, again, Tommy Ryan. "You startled me," I spoke as I tried to calm my nerves. Annoyance took over yet again. This man had a sense of bad timing that was almost uncanny. Trying to at least be civil anyway, I took a deep breath. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry for frightenin' you." He stood holding his bowler hat in front of him, seeming to be almost nervous. "I have a rough way of doin that now, don't I?"

Shaking my head, I occupied the hand at my chest by toying with my necklace. "Fine, it's fine. Was there something you needed, Mr. Ryan?"

In the moonlight it was hard to tell, but I thought I detected a flush. "I thought ta ask yeh to dance with me. Properly... this time," he added quickly, with a wry smile.

I raised an eyebrow, hearing the music floating out to us on the breeze. "Here?"

"Oh... wherever ye'd like, really." I noted him shift his weight, not moving his eyes from my face. "... Just as long as we might dance."

Trying to come up with a believable reason not to, I stood there silently for a moment, but felt cruel after watching him seem to become increasingly restless under my gaze. "Alright then. A dance," I held out my hand, hoping he understood the emphases on the singular.

He grinned at me then, the same merriness lighting his eyes as he eagerly led me back in toward the floor. It wasn't until we were under better light that I was able to tell a difference in his appearance this particular evening. Previously in drab colors such as brown and gray, tonight Tommy had donned a crisp pale blue shirt with a cream colored vest over top and matching pants. What's more, his usually tousled curls seemed to have been combed very carefully.

I would have been an idiot not to realize what was going on here, and the prospect made me sigh. Whatever had given him over to the notion that I might welcome his attentions? Having dealt with this once before with a higher society young man that I viewed just as unfavorably as I did Mr. Ryan, I knew what seemed to work to push this unwanted affection to the side.

Feigning ignorance – it cuts a man's pride in half. But first, I couldn't resist having a little harmless fun.

"Well, Mr. Ryan," I commented as we made our way to the floor and he turned to face me. "So it seems you found yourself a new shirt aboard this vessel."

"Ah... that I did!" he replied, grinning and undaunted. "Borrowed it actually. It's a hair tight about tha shoulders, but it works pretty well, don't you think?"

"Sure," I replied, giving a modest shrug, meaning to take his hands as we'd done the night before, but this time he surprised me.

"D'ya mind me putting my hand here?" I nearly jumped as I felt his hand on the lower part of my side, still very much in the proper regions, but farther down than I'd experienced before.

"... Oh, I... no, it's fine," I managed, as I felt him pull me closer.

A new song cut its way into the old one, another spirited melody, and Tommy began to twirl me about the floor as he'd done last night, only using a bit more care. The way in which these people danced mystified me. There seemed to be no legitimate steps to any of these songs, and what's more, I hadn't once heard a slow one being played. Such energy.

Soon finding myself in the amiable frame of mind I'd found myself in the night before... after all, who could stay so serious in the midst of such jolly antics... I managed to keep up with Tommy, and was quite proud of myself throughout the dance. At some point I began to wonder when and if Jack had joined up again with the third class entertainment, and when I could catch an appropriate moment to do so, I would occasionally allow my eyes to scan the crowd. Of course that isn't so easy a thing to do when being tossed about as I was, so I resolved to take a better look around after we were finished dancing.

"Good at this, aren'tcha!"

My thoughts were broken into by Tommy's voice.

"Am I?" I smiled back at him, probably for the first time ever, and his eyes seemed to focus on me a second or two longer than they had been. "Yeh are, Lass."

"Aye!" he chuckled, sending me spinning again before catching me in strong arms. "Lovely night fer a jig, isn't it?"

"Is is, to be sure," I raised my voice back, finding I had to yell to be heard.

The dance ended after a bit, and I noted the musicians taking a break to have a swig each of beer

"So..." Tommy leaned in to speak into my ear so he could be heard. "I had a one-dance limit, didn't I?"

I smirked, finding myself studying his brow line, which I had to admit was strong and attractive. "Yes, you did."

"Och, what a tragedy!" He wrinkled his nose into a dramatically crushed face. "Then I suppose I'll just have to make do with not dancing."

"... What?" I stared at him, taken offguard.

"Ya said one dance... so we'll stop dancing, and perhaps do something else. Would yeh go for a walk?

I stood still, unable to believe this man. "I said only one dance, because I didn't intend to hang around for much longer than that, Mr. Ryan."

"No no, Mr. Ryan is my father. Or my grandfather. Maybe even an uncle of mine, but not me. Please, just call me Tommy," he insisted, walking along beside me as I made my way toward the staircase from the general room.

"Alright then, Tommy... I believe I'll retire for the night. Thank you for your company... and have a nice evening." I was just turning to go to my room, when suddenly a figure caught my eye. In came Jack Dawson, as casually as ever yet with a preoccupied look on his face. He slapped his friend, a certain Fabrizio, on the back and went to sit down, taking a cigar.

"... Ah, so it's Jack," I heard Tommy speak, noticing he'd followed my gaze. "Wonder what that boyo was doin' all evening."

Just then, I saw the other man's eyes turn toward us, and he flashed a smile, raising a hand to wave. Waving back in his overly friendly manner, I saw Tommy glance back at me, no doubt wondering what my response would be.

My cheeks flushed, and I waved back, having second thoughts suddenly about turning in for the night.

"You said you were wanting another dance, Tommy?"

Surprise lit up his eyes as his back straightened a bit. "That I would, Lass. If ya'd permit it."

"I suppose I might stay a bit longer. The exercise does me good," I gave him another smile, taking his hand and making my way back toward the crowd.

By eight o'clock, I was marveling over the fact that I'd stayed in the general room so long. It was more typical for me to retire to the stateroom with a book to finish out the night, but I had surprised myself by ending up having a fairly good time. After dancing once more with Tommy, I managed to meander my way over to the table Jack was sitting at, leaving Tommy to whatever he wished. Of course, as I predicted, he followed me, which was convenient for making it look as though joining Jack's table was his idea.

After watching Jack dance several rounds with Cora, I was only too happy when he came back over at about the same time a couple of Swedish fellows managed to talk Tommy into another arm wrestling match.

"Ah, I don't know, I thought maybe..." he had protested at first, his eyes darting toward me. But the Swedes were persistent, and I assured him it was perfectly fine for him to do that while I watched.

Of course, watching was the very last thing I had on my mind. As quickly as I could get away with it, I turned to Jack. "Are you well this evening, Mr. Dawson?"

Taking a moment to put out his cigar, Jack sighed. "... I am, I just have something on my mind. You a pretty good listener?"

I froze. Really? Was I actually getting this opportunity?"

"I... try to be," I replied. "It depends on what you want me to listen to. If it's a story about fishing or a drunken incident with the boys-"

He laughed. "No no, nothing like that. Why don't we dance? I think I do a better job talking when I'm active. And besides, the music's calmed down so you'll actually be able to hear me."

Looking over at the musicians, I realized he was right. I suppose I hadn't ever stayed down here long enough before to reach the point of the solo violinists launching more soulful ballads. As the people with young children were filtering away, I saw several couples, many of them either older or visibly in the throes of infatuation, taking their places on the dance floor.

Not even looking back to Tommy to catch his reaction to this, I took Jack's offered hand, and we made our way out to the floor.

"So," Jack began immediately, taking my hand and placing his other on my side where Tommy had placed his. "Have you ever met someone, and even though it was only for a minute or two... you just knew something special was there?"

"... Y-Yes, I have," I replied, hoping I wasn't giving myself away by answering so fervently. "Is... there something troubling about it?"

"Well," he began, wrinkling his nose as he thought seriously. "Yes and no. No, as in, I try not to worry about much, you know? Let things come and go as they will. But at the same time, I'm afraid this time I may be bested by this feeling. This young woman, I can tell she's miserable. But then, what am I supposed to do about it, you know? It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the fact that I can't stop thinking about her."

"Oh?" I listened with rapt attention, so much that I almost missed the incredible racket going on over in Tommy's corner as a Swede jumped up from the seat across from him in victory.

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" he pumped his fist in the air. But Tommy didn't seem to be paying the least bit of attention to this, instead watching Jack and I with his mouth slightly open, cigar threatening to tumble out.

Turning once again to Jack, I finally spoke. "Have you... let her know yet? How you feel?"

"Ah, not yet, no," Jack shrugged. "It's really just one of those... mild things for right now. The feeling you get when you know something's going to turn into a really big deal, but you don't know how to digest it all yet. Does that make sense?"

I nodded, unable to find my voice. Was this truly happening? "Jack... I... I don't know what to say."

"Please, don't say anything," he replied. "It's okay. I just... needed to talk it over." He smiled, his green eyes sincere. "Thanks Aimee. I appreciate you listening."

The song was coming to a close, and all I could do was stare at him. "Oh, I.. I'm happy to, please. Come talk to me anytime. You're always welcome," I made sure to add, so he knew that when he had sorted out his feelings, I would be here.

After letting my hands go and saying he was heading off to bed, Jack left me standing there dumbly in the middle of the floor. Finally I shook off the euphoria that was threatening to overtake me, and went back to the table, smiling to myself.

"... Um... so," Tommy began, sipping on a beer. "Did you have a nice time dancing?"

"I did."

My reply was met by more silence from Tommy Ryan than I'd ever previously experienced.

"... So I s'pose there's not much reason to ask yeh for another dance with me then."

I turned to him after taking a moment to breathe deeply. "Tommy, I'm sorry. I know what you were hoping for, but you have to understand I don't think I can feel that way for you. So..." I stood up, leaving him sitting there speechless. "...Thank you for the dancing, and the good time. But I think I'll go on up to bed now. Please... try to find another girl on this ship to pursue, there are plenty of them." I began to walk away.

"W-Wait there."

Stopping, I looked around to see that Tommy had finally moved into action, grabbing up his coat and following me. "Yeh've danced once with Jack and twice with me. I know he's what you lasses all say is handsome, and I know he's got a... a smoother way than some of us've got, but his attention is elsewhere. Or at least it was yesterday, and this morning too. So yer tellin' me one dance has undone all of that for him? And... and ya know enough about the lad to just..."

I felt very uncomfortable in the light of Tommy's apparent frustration. For some reason, I hadn't imagined he would react this way, having been so compliant and amiable before.

"We talked, Tommy, yes." I turned around and stared him in the eye. "And I don't know that you could understand this, but we both know about that Moment. The moment when you know something special could happen between you and someone else, even if you don't seem to have much to go on."

Shaking his head, Tommy finally spoke, and this time I could tell he was highly annoyed. "So yer about to go on about having that moment with Jack, right?"

Not even knowing what to say to that, I shook my head slowly. "... I'm sorry."

For some reason, this was proving to be not as easy as I had thought it would be. Tommy just stood there awkwardly, watching me, studying my face as though to find any sign that what I told him wasn't true. But after he was able to see that it was, he simply nodded.

"... Right. Then I won't be botherin' yeh further, Miss Satterfield," he put on his hat. "Goodnight to you."

I stood there, watching as he walked away with anything but the confident swagger he'd formerly displayed. Why did I feel so horrible?

 _Well it was his fault_ , I quelled the voice inside my head. _He doesn't even know me, what made him think he had this much of a chance? Furthermore, what about me of all people made him want to pursue me?_

Hearing noises of affection a few yards away, I looked down the deck to see Keely embracing a Swedish man I'd seen her shadowing before. Shaking my head, I turned to go to bed, hoping to put this entire day out of my mind save for the possible good news Jack may have coming my way.

Who else, after all, could he be talking about? And why would he speak those things to me, if there in fact was someone else? This had to be it. This was what I'd been waiting for. If I was truly doomed to marry beneath myself, I would happily do it if it could be with a handsome, charismatic man such as Jack Dawson.


	5. Chapter 5

Trying to think as little as possible about the last incident of the night before, I dragged myself out of bed early the next morning. I had work to do on my hair before I would see Jack at breakfast... and this time I wasn't going to miss it.

Sharing a sink and a mirror with three other girls wasn't exactly easy, but it helped that I seemed to be the only one who remained parked there for so long. The Danish sisters were just leaving as I was sliding the comb into my hair, when Keely ducked in front of me unexpectedly.

"Bleeechhhhhhhhh!"

I jumped back quickly as she emptied her stomach into the sink in front of me without warning.

"Pardon, but it hit me sudden-like," she said in a shaky voice when she was finally able to speak, straightening up and turning the water on. All I did was stare at her.

"... Are you okay?"

She nodded. "The rocking must be getting to me."

My brow furrowed. This was a luxury steamboat, there _was_ no rocking. At least not most of the time. "... Will you be alright to eat breakfast?"

Wiping off her mouth after rinsing it out, Keely shook her head. "Not going if I can help it." With that, she went back to the ladder and climbed to her bed above, sinking onto it and rolling over.

"You were out late last night, weren't you?"

"It's no business of yours," she muttered, facing away from me. Sighing as I finished combing my hair, I put the brush down and climbed the ladder myself until I was looking down at her. Keely rolled back over with a surprised and annoyed look on her face. "What are yeh about?"

I sighed, unable to believe I was bothering. "Remember when I boarded this ship and you wouldn't leave me alone for pulling me around with you and making me meet all your friends?"

"Aye, I do. Then I found out yer a hussie, and stopped caring," she replied curtly, rolling over once more. "Now let me sleep."

Shaking my head, I didn't move from my perch. "Alright, Keely, you win. I'm a hussie, I never said I wasn't. I just don't know that one incident of me showing my backside on the dancefloor a couple nights ago warrants you giving me the cold shoulder for the rest of the week. This is a new life for me, you knew that from the time we met."

Waiting for a moment to see if she'd reply, and finding she wouldn't, I gave up and started to climb down. Taking up my bag to go to breakfast alone, I stopped at the door when she spoke in a quiet, almost frightened, voice.

"I'm pregnant."

I stood staring at the paint detail on the door for what felt like an entire minute just digesting the news. "What?" I turned finally, looking back over at the huddled form in the upper bunk. "Keely?"

For a moment I thought she didn't intend to speak further. Finally she did, without moving in the bed. "Daddy tossed me out and told me to find my own way. 'Go to America with all the other foolish lasses', he said. I don't think he was serious, but after he said that, I was. I scrimped and saved and bought my own ticket for this boat, that oughta show 'im."

I took a step toward her. "What about... the father?"

Again, she went quiet for awhile. "I don't know who it is."

Going over to sit back down on my bed for a moment, it was my turn to go quiet. I knew Keely had come to bed late nearly every night so far that we'd been on this ship, and I remembered seeing her with a man last night. She was what my mother would refer to as a "New York trollop." At least that's the first thought I'd had about her, but now... something didn't seem right about that when I saw my roommate's small, vulnerable form covered up in blankets, hiding from morning.

Her voice startled me with its sudden fervor. "I don't need a Sunday school lecture from yeh either, so if yer thinkin' one up, save your breath. Rules and morals and all that are just fine when yer a certain kind of girl, but when yer like me, they have a way of makin' yeh feel worse."

I glanced up at the bottom of her bunk bed, still thinking. "I wasn't..."

She snorted. "Oh of course, _you_ wouldn't."

I stood up. "Keely, let me at least bring you back some bread."

"No, I don't want it," she snapped. "I want to sleep, but you won't go away and let me do it."

Finally, not knowing what else to do or say, I sighed and opened the door, leaving quietly. Walking down the narrow corridor, I kept thinking how odd it seemed on a bold girl like Keely for her to seem so lost in her situation. As hard as she was trying to act like she wasn't, it was very apparent she didn't really know her way in this at all. It was when I was about to descend the small staircase leading to the dining saloon that I stopped.

"She left those in here?"

I heard the snickering male voice coming from a room just behind me.

"Yah, yah! Sat up and looked at the clock, then got up and bolted," the Swedish accented voice replied to him.

A third voice jumped in. "Ah, save 'em. I'm going to see if I can steal a slice of that cake tonight, and when I do, she'll get them back then." The three of them laughed.

My stomach turned as it dawned on me who the men were talking about. Sure enough, as I turned to go back and stood in the doorway of their stateroom, I saw the face of the man Keely was with last night.

Suddenly anger overtook me and I tossed my bag down, coming into the room, properness be damned. "Give me those!" I marched over and jerked the pair of underpants from the stunned Swede's hand, slapping his arm down. "And stay away from her, ALL of you."

I took my time glaring at each of the men in the room before wadding up the panties and turning stiffly to make my way back out of the room. Once I did so, taking back up my bag, I felt a flush cross my face. I'd never been in a man's room before, but something about their conversation, so obnoxious and proud for the entire hallway to hear, infuriated me.

Although once I reached the stairs to the dining saloon once again, I paused, not sure what to do with what was in my hand. I couldn't go to breakfast holding my roommate's dirty underwear, of course. Taking a deep breath, I turned once again to make my way back to our room, feeling smug about the fact that the young men's voices from the stateroom I invaded had lowered to near whispers. Opening our door, I came in and set Keely's panties down on top of her travel bag before going back over to the sink to wash my hands.

In the mirror's reflection, I saw her sit up and turn around to see who had come back. When she looked at me, I informed her demurely. "I... just came to bring you your underwear." Drying my hands quickly, I made my way once more out the door with her staring after me.


	6. Chapter 6

The morning went by with ease considering I never once saw Jack. Unsure of where he might be, I wasn't willing to risk even more pride to go find him. Instead, I found myself sitting in the general room with my novel, keeping a close eye out for both him and Keely.

"Good morning, Miss Aimee!" a little voice interrupted my concentration as Cora and Mr. Cartmell came strolling by my bench.

"Hello Cora," I smiled. "How's Margaret?"

"Oh, she's quite well," she answered eagerly, holding up her doll for me to inspect for myself. "She says she wants to go look for dolphins. And I do too! So Daddy's taking us."

"So I see," I chuckled. "Have a lovely time."

After the Cartmells passed, I went back to my book, but didn't stay there long. My focus kept slipping as I observed out the corner of my eye the young man named Fabrizio with a young woman I'd heard addressed as Helga. With their opposite languages and even more different appearances, I found it interesting that they seemed so engrossed in one another's company. He would say something to her every so often, and she would try to repeat it... then they would laugh together. A good example of the chemistry that can be found between two people regardless of background. I flushed, glancing around once more for Jack. Again, he was nowhere to be found.

"Yer a pretty lass," a feminine Irish voice spoke from the other side of me. I regarded a plain, red-haired woman with a small girl of matching hair sitting on her lap. "Somethin's tellin' me yeh don't belong with a lot like us."

I found her direct approach to be surprising, but her smile was kind. So I couldn't help but be civil back to her. "I had a bit of misfortune not so long ago," I replied, closing my book with the resolution that this was hopeless, but not minding it so much. "So I've found myself in... different circumstances."

She nodded, studying me carefully. "I see. Life has a way of doin' that to one, doesn't it? Ya think yer adrift in your comfy lil' vessel, when the next thing you know, there's a change of tide. And yer sailing off in another direction, with no way to stop it, eh?"

I sat quietly, thinking about her metaphor. "Yes... that's exactly what it's like," I finally spoke. "It can be unsettling."

"Unsettling, yes. But sometimes it's what we need. A fresh look at things we've never looked at before."

Something about this woman made me want to dissolve into sobs in her lap. Not something I'd experienced often, I mentally chided myself for such a thought. "I'm... Aimee Satterfield," I felt compelled to tell her.

"Beautiful name, that. I've always liked 'Aimee'. Me, I'm Sybil McGalliard. This is my young lass Meara, and over there is my lad Kerry." She pointed over a few yards away, and my stomach promptly clenched.

Sure enough, there was a young dark-haired boy lying on his stomach on the ground, seeking to impress none other than Tommy Ryan, who was kneeling next to him, with his marble shooting.

Coming quite close to standing up right then and leaving, rude or not, I continued to observe Tommy for a moment, more in that way a child watches a parent when he knows he's "this close" to being caught with his hand in the cookie jar than anything else. Ms. McGalliard evidently caught my stare.

"Ah, Tommy. The lad's been a godsend during this voyage, that's sure. My husband sent us on ahead ta stay with a cousin of mine, see, while he works ta save up some money. Then he'll come as well. My lad's missed him fiercely, but he's taken so to Mr. Ryan."

Tommy hadn't noticed me yet, thankfully, showing Kerry some new detail to the game they were playing. He made for a lively playmate, I could see instantly, and it couldn't be denied that when he laughed, it was a laugh so hearty one couldn't help wanting to at smile along with it.

_Like my father._

I pushed the thought away quickly, however. "Ah, well... it's good that he has someone to take such time with him," I replied to Ms. McGalliard.

In a slightly lower voice, she continued. "Mr. Ryan is another who knows about the unexpected. He went home one evening to his mother and father's to find the house burned to the ground. Naught was left but his wee sister and brother, standing thurr huddled together in the rain."

For the second time already that day, I was struck dumb.

"... Why? How did it happen?"

"His young fiance was the daughter of a man in the Irish mafia. The man held a grudge against Tommy's father, and... .that was that." "How did you hear of this?"

"Yeh learn a lot by listening, Dear. Listening and watching."

I nodded while watching Tommy, now wishing even more I would have been kinder in my dealings with him. "So what happened to the little ones then?"

"They were sent ahead to America, much as I am with my children. Tommy's uncle cares fer them there, and Tommy's joining them. I s'pose he intends ta give them all a fresh start."

I watched the young man in front of me as he played with what seemed to be endless energy with the little boy. Feeling a new admiration for him, I smiled.

That's when he looked up. I quickly averted my gaze to the child he was playing with, glancing back over then to Mrs. McGalliard. "You have beautiful children."

"Well thank yeh, Lass. Although it dinna seem my children were all yeh were admirin'," she smiled with a twinkle in her eye.

Flushing deeply, I shook my head. "Oh. No... I was just thinking how... how admirable it was that Mr. Ryan was going to America to take care of his family." I resolved to not look back to see if he was still looking over at us.

"You know, a large vessel such as this is a good place fer a woman to find a husband. You'll be rememberin' that," she gave my shoulder a pat, standing up. "Well, time for an afternoon nap, Meara. Let me fetch yer brother..."

I had to brace myself to resist the urge to bolt, realizing that with Kerry being swept off to his bed, Tommy would be left with nothing to do with his attention but to approach me. But I held firm, reminding myself that I was always a lady, and would not run from any man.

Turning back to my book after the McGalliards left, I was taken over by the impulse to look up. I hadn't been approached yet, and was frankly surprised. Discreetly, I slid ever so slightly into a position where I was close enough to see the spot where Tommy and Kerry had played in my peripheral vision.

I supposed I must have been expecting Tommy to be in the same spot, peering over at me, so one can imagine my surprise when I realized he wasn't doing that at all. Instead, he had paused beside Fabrizio and was carrying on a lively conversation with the other man, not seeming the slightest bit concerned with my whereabouts. Something about the very notion of that spiked my temperature, and I felt frustration rising in my chest.

_Why? You're the one who told him to go away._

Taking a deep breath, I tried once more to focus on my novel, but it didn't last long when I observed an officer making his way into the General Room, overseeing about four sturdy men carrying a heavy object through the double doors – a piano.

Not the grand piano which had been found in the first class dining room, but a solid oak upright. Where had this come from? I stood suddenly, letting the book fall from my hands.

The men carried the piano over to a corner, setting it down and arranging it the way the officer was instructing them to do. Unable to help myself, I approached the young man. "Is... that to be ours?"

He regarded me with a quick glance, before turning back to inspect the work. "For this evening, it would appear so. It came down from second class, as they are to have a band performing in their dining hall. If you ask me, third class has quite enough entertainment going on down here in the evenings without a piano. But I was asked to bring it down."

"By who?" I couldn't help my curiosity.

It was at that point that I detected a slight flush on the gentleman's face, one he seemed bent on trying to hide. "... By a third class passenger to whom I owed a favor." His voice lowered slightly. "She reminded me of that a few moments ago, and... for some reason, wished it to be fulfilled by my seeing that a piano was brought to the third class general room." He shrugged. "She said there's someone she knows who would appreciate it, and she herself would like to hear said person play this evening."

I was confused for a moment, before something dawned on me. Could it be...?

Unable to contain my smile, I nodded. "I think I know who it might be. Thank you, Sir."

Wordlessly, the officer walked out with the men who had carried down the piano. I chuckled to myself. "Keely... good to see you stopped being angry."

Suddenly I heard a woman audibly gasp from a few yards away. "Ice! Oh, I do hope not, Maynard."

Looking over, I saw an older couple standing next to a man who stood casually lighting up a cigar. "I wouldn't be too worried about it, Mrs. Tyson. It's April, ice this far north is a common thing. Besides, this is a sturdy ship! What d'you think a bit of ice could possibly do to it?"

"Oh, but what if-!"

"Harriet, shhh!" The fretful woman's husband admonished. "Don't cause a panic among the children. You heard the man, it's only a warning. And perfectly common for this time of year!"

The woman didn't look at all pacified, and just shook her head, walking over to sit back down. The men smirked at one another, shaking heads in her wake.

I almost wanted to chuckle myself. Something about the woman's anxiety reminded me of my mother.

Curious once again to see if I could find Jack's whereabouts, I made my way out onto the deck and looked around me. Aside from a young couple strolling, Cora leaning over the railing with her father just behind her looking into the water, and an officer or two, our deck was quite empty.

_Goodness, it seems as though I'll never catch -_

Just then, my eyes lit upon a sight from the First Class Deck above us. It was Jack, of all people, leaning against the railing facing away from me.

"What's he doing up there?" I murmured, and took a few steps forward to call out to him. Thankfully I didn't, however, because an instant later, he was joined where he stood by Rose DeWitt Bukater, with whom he was carrying on a most lively conversation.

I watched, unable to prompt myself to move away, for probably a full minute before Rose looked down and caught my eye, smiling and giving me a wave. Jack turned then as well, raising his own hand.

Giving what I hope turned out to be a civil enough nod, I turned and numbly walked in the opposite direction.

Rose was the woman he was peering at so diligently the day before. Of course, it was she Jack spoke of last night during our dance, not... me.

 _Oh, how could you have been such a blithering idiot?_ I chastised myself, fairly sure that by this point there was a scarlet dot on each of my cheeks.

Had Tommy known? If he had, why did he let me stand there and talk as I had last night without stopping me? Of course, I had just more or less insulted him, so why _would_ he?

Feeling pride flood my chest, I immediately dismissed any further thoughts of Jack. If it was Rose he wanted, I certainly wasn't going to compete. Taking a deep breath, I went off in search of Keely, trying to force myself to let the matter go.


	7. Chapter 7

I crossed the deck of the ship several times in my attempts to locate Keely, and in doing so, I wondered to myself why I hadn't come up here more often. This ship was magnificent, and while I had paid little attention to it when boarding, not thinking it as any more than just another ocean liner, I had heard exclamations all around me about how the _Titanic_ would revolutionize steamships forever after. It was quite nice, no doubt about that. The steady hum one could hear in steerage wasn't the least bit apparent above deck.

But Mr. Cartmell had been right. We apparently were nearing more northerly parts as the chill in the air had increased drastically. I hugged my arms about myself as I walked briskly across the planks, trying not to look toward the first class deck where I had spotted Jack earlier alongside Rose. Glad I had decided to leave my hair down today to keep my neck warm, the only bad part about it was the fact that I was continually needing to scoop it back away from my face due to the breeze.

Finally I spotted Keely sitting alone close to the ship's stern. Pausing abruptly to allow two playing children to run across my path, I made my way over to her. "...Keely?"

She turned around. "Oh, it's you," she commented, though not with the former bite. "Did they bring the piano down?"

I smiled. "They did. I thought it might have been you that arranged for that."

Shrugging, she turned back toward the tail of the ship. "I'm going to expect concert quality material for all that, you know."

I came over and sat down next to her, quietly taking in our surroundings. It was amazing how far the ocean had stretched out around us on all sides for a couple days now, almost as though we had sailed entirely out of the bounds of time and space. When Keely spoke, I realized she must have been thinking much the same thing.

"It's like we're in the in-between, yeh know? Away from the past, not yet spotting the future."

Studying her for a moment out the corner of my eye, I found myself unable to keep from asking the question I had been wondering about all day. "What happened to cause this, Keely?"

She snorted. "I take it yer mum didn't have this talk with you."

"No, I mean..." I paused, trying to think on how to word what I wanted to know differently. But she spoke again.

"It's just... men have an awful way of making yeh believe untrue things. My papa never spent a lot of time coddlin' us and doing all those sweet fatherly things that... say, Mr. Cartmell does with his little lass. I didn't think it mattered to me," she shrugged. "It's how it had always been, and I didn't think I was any worse for tha wear. That was, until I was fifteen, and met young Hamish O'Boyle."

I watched as Keely smiled, evidently lost in a fond memory.

"I thought I'd met my fairy prince, that's sure. It wasn't til after I'd given him all my honor that I saw 'im for what he was. But by then... it was too late. I knew what it was like to be held, to have a man seem he was beholdin' to yeh fer something. And even though the reason was clear... it didn't stop me from wantin' to be treated like that again. Even if for just a few minutes at a time. It became..."

For the first time since I'd met her a few days ago, I saw Keely flush.

"...It became somethin' I felt I had to have to live."

Pondering over what Keely was saying, I nodded. The thing was, what she said made sense. I remembered my own father, and what it felt like to be treasured by him, to go flying down the stairs to meet him when he came home from a long distance concert. Smiling up at him and watching his eyes, there was never any doubt in my mind that I was loved beyond words. What must it be like not to have that? And if I hadn't, would I have found myself going to search for it in other places as well?

"Anyway, that's about all there is to it," Keely sighed, looking down at her abdomen, which, now that I knew to look for it, didn't seem quite as flat as I'd originally thought. "I can't undo any of that now, so I figure what's tha use in tryin' so hard to be proper."

"Keely," I leaned forward. "You are... a lovely girl, with a generous, welcoming spirit."

She chuckled. "A 'generous, welcoming' spirit, eh?"

I nodded. "It's true. When I came aboard this ship... I realize I wasn't very friendly, and you had no real reason to want to talk to me. But you did anyway, even if I made you mad later," I smiled. "Even if I wasn't exactly in the frame of mind to return your kindness, I think I still knew from that moment that there was at least one person on this ship to whom I could turn if I really needed to."

"Is that so?" Keely replied, losing her earlier sarcasm.

"It's absolutely so. You have a lot of spirit and strength that you're about to have the chance to share with your little one when it comes."

She shook her head, staring off. "But it'll always remind me how foolish a lass I was... and still am."

I found myself reaching over to place a hand on her arm, and she looked over, surprised. "You're only foolish if you continue to cheat yourself with men who aren't worth it. And anyway, this baby... it's _yours_ , Keely. A man was responsible, sure, but that doesn't matter now. This is your baby to start a brand new life with, to teach the things you want him or her to know. You're the one he will learn from, not anyone else, not even your papa."

At the mention of her father, Keely's eyes seemed to flicker with determination for a moment. Then she sighed. "All well 'n good, but yer missin' somethin'. A young woman without a husband raising a lad or lass, society's never been so happy about such a thing. I could bear tha staring and tha whispers, but I hate that I did this to the child. He'll not have opportunities like I woulda wanted."

"Then..." I began, prepared to say something uplifting, until I thought about what she was saying and realized it was true. My own mother had been the perfect example of a high-minded member of first class society. She'd had the ability to shun better than anyone else I'd ever known – until we found ourselves in our own predicament. I still believed her falling ill was due a great deal to being unable to handle what she regarded as our "fall from grace".

"'Then' nothing," Keely retorted. "There's naught to be said fer that, we both know it's true."

"We'll think of something," I promised, looking at her firmly. "This isn't the end of the line for you just because of a past mistake. It can't be."

She stared at me for a moment, seeming surprised once more. "We? And just when do yeh wager I'll see yeh again after we get off this boat?"

I thought about the question for a moment, my stomach sinking as my mind had been brought back around to a question I'd been trying to avoid for awhile. "I don't know, I'm not sure where I'm going."

Keely watched me for a moment. "Yeh mean there's no family to take yeh in?"

I shook my head. "My father was an only child, and my mother's one sister lives in England. She made it clear after my mother died that she didn't want to be involved in helping me figure out what to do. I think part of her never got over the fact that my mother married Papa," I found myself chuckling for lack of a better way to respond to something that could still make me so angry. "So... I thought I'd find work in one of the mills, despite the fact that I don't know the first thing about them. Hopefully only for a little while, just until I find a suitable husband of course."

Shrugging, Keely replied, "Perhaps we'll find a job at tha same place. I hear New York's a big city, but one never knows."

I smiled. "One never does."


	8. Chapter 8

Keely and I had a nice day, no doubt the most pleasant I'd had aboard _Titanic_ so far. Running across one amicable First Officer Harold Lowe, we spent an hour or so speaking with him about the ship's upper decks and the amenities in first class. Keely looked spellbound by the whole idea that things of such splendor could exist aboard a ship. I listened with a fair amount of envy, remembering the days when I myself would be going back and forth between Turkish baths and massive libraries, dining gourmet every evening, dancing under chandeliers. But when he turned the topic onto the mechanisms of the large vessel, I was captivated by the genius of the ship's designer, Thomas Andrews.

"You see, four of the watertight compartments can actually be flooded to the brim, and she would stay afloat," Lowe bragged on the ship in his Welsh accent as we walked along the deck. "This vessel was built to withstand any foreseeable disaster that may come upon us."

"Good to know," Keely chuckled. "Especially considering that ice warning we just heard someone talking about..."

"Ah, ice! Not to worry, Miss O'Donnell. Perfectly normal for this time of year. Remember we're sailing with Captain Smith, a veteran. Ice is old hat for a fellow like him."

"That is true," I reminded her. "Then remember what he's been telling us all this time about the construction of the boat."

"I just can't tell yeh how good it'll be to reach dry land again," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

I chuckled. "I suppose I wouldn't have taken you as one who likes to be cooped up, Keely."

We walked with him a bit more before he went back on duty with a salute.

"So nice," Keely mused. "Yeh never meet that kind of man where I lived in Ireland."

Next we went back below deck and made our way to the dining saloon for tea and to see if there were any cakes available. "I've been wanting cakes somethin' fierce," Keely had remarked as we approached the door.

Hearing voices quickly approaching us from the other side, I slowed down to let them come out before we went in. About three laughing young men passed through, and thinking that was all, I began to move forward, stopping just in time to keep from colliding with none other than...

"Tommy! Hello," I smiled, unsure as to why I felt warmth at seeing him other than the fact that I was having a very good day.

Pausing for a moment as he registered my face, I watched Tommy's amiable expression disappear. "Miss Satterfield," he gave me a civil tip of his hat, glancing at Keely as well. "Miss O'Donnell."

I opened my mouth in preparation to say something, exactly what I wasn't sure, when he continued on his way.

Keely raised an eyebrow and smirked at me. "Oh?"

I flushed and shook my head, opening the door for her to come in after me. "Nothing, I just... I wish I could explain to him-"

"Explain to him what? That yeh were wrong to shove him off before giving the lad a chance? Och, yer such a silly girl sometimes, Aimee," Keely sighed, sitting down. "Don't get me wrong, I have my own battles ta fight. But it's puzzle with you, like. One moment yer a sweet lass with a good heart. Not somebody who'd go down easily. But then the next moment yer angry at the world it seems, and... that father of yers, what exactly did he do to make yeh so angry? Not plan ahead well enough, not count on dying so young? Is that really all?"

I felt my throat constrict as a thought formed in my mind, but I was unable to speak it just yet. Shaking my head, I picked up the slip of paper listing what would be available to eat between meals. "We're having a good day, Keely. I really don't want to ruin it by talking about this."

Thankfully, she let the matter go easily. We ordered spiced tea and a slice of pound cake for her, and the conversation moved onto stories of home. I found Keely to be a lively storyteller who could make almost anything funny, even if the circumstance behind it wasn't ideal. I soon lost myself to fits of giggles at her antics, and we remained in the dining saloon for a good chunk of the evening.

"Alright!" she finally took a refreshing breath after telling me about the time her brother's hat was found perched on a goat's head a few miles from their home. "I'm about to pop from staying away from the toilet too long."

I had to laugh once more at her bluntness, glad no one was sitting near us. "Alright. Well I'm going to take a walk along the deck. It's a bit cold, but I miss the fresh air when we're below deck for too long," I said, standing up and successfully resisting the urge to stretch.

After parting ways with Keely, I made my way back to the deck, feeling excitement surge when I thought of how soon dinner would be. After that, I would play my piano. Of course, it wasn't like I couldn't go in there anytime and play it, but I was intentionally giving myself something to look forward to.

The wind felt cold as it hit my face. It had cooled off quite a bit from what it had been even just a couple hours ago. As icy as the air around us felt, I could only imagine how much more so the water below would have. The mere thought made me eager to run back to my warm third class room and bury under the covers. Just as I reached up to push my hat down more snugly over my ears, the sharp wind whipped it off and sent it tumbling across the deck, landing just in front of a pair of worn boots. The man bent over and picked them up, and when he was aright again, I stopped short of chasing it.

"Might want ta hang onto that better out here," Tommy spoke around his cigar, holding the hat out as the breeze toyed with the curls under his own.

"Yes, thank you," I approached slowly, taking the hat and looking over it for signs of damage. Tommy had turned back to the sea then, digging his hands back into his pockets nonchalantly.

I knew the encounter was over with, and I could easily turn around and walk away, but something kept me standing there studying him for a moment. Finally, he turned around. "Yes?"

He didn't say the word in anything other than a civil tone, but I could still sense his humiliation from the other evening. I would need to be careful of what I said to him now in order to not add any insult to injury. "I... was wondering, do you know about where in the Atlantic we might be?"

Flicking out the ashes of his cigar, he replied, "There's not much of a way to be sure. Past Greenland I believe I heard. But out here," he continued, waving toward the sea, "it all looks tha same."

"Yes, I suppose it does," I responded quietly, while at the same time realizing what I was trying to do. I had been careless of Tommy's feelings for me the evening before, and I wanted to somehow make up for it by offering friendship. Yes, a noble enough intention. "It's almost as though we're standing still."

Tommy was quiet for so long I thought our brief exchange was over. I looked back toward the sea, willing myself not to flush at my defeat. Finally, he spoke. "You've not been on a boat much, have yeh?"

I cleared my throat as I gathered my thoughts. "I've been on a boat... just not as a third class passenger."

He turned back toward me, apparently seeking an explanation.

"I was... the daughter of a composer," I began, not bothering to tell him my father's name as I wanted to avoid the awkwardness if he didn't recognize it. "He was a concert pianist, and climbed his way to the top I suppose. So... I was born into a very different environment than what I've seen here."

Tommy raised his eyebrows, and somehow I felt that detail explained a lot to him. "Ah. So yer a first class lass at heart then, aren't yeh?" He blew out one last puff of smoke and tossed the cigar over the railing.

Not sure if he meant that positively or negatively, I merely nodded. "I suppose you might say so. I've only ever traveled as such."

Suddenly he chuckled, taking me completely offguard. "Then forgive me. I guess yeh wouldn't be getting with any of us third class Irishmen seriously, would ya? I must've took you as broken down and desperate as the rest of us."

When I caught his eye, I realized that he was making these statements in a genuine spirit of humor, despite how awkward they were. It had always intrigued me to meet people who made light of taboo topics, and a giggle was forced out of me.

"Please, I never meant it to come across that way. You only... took me by surprise is all," I began, suddenly struck by the fact that Tommy hadn't mentioned my admitted pursuit of Jack when talking about third class men. Wondering why he wouldn't, particularly when it could easily be used against me because of the result, I had to pull my mind off of the distraction to focus on the moment.

"It's nothing," he smiled. "Really. Won't we even start over?"

"Start over...?"

Tommy held out his hand before I could protest. "Tommy Ryan."

I flushed, taking his warm, dry hand in a shake, not really knowing how to respond to all this. "Well... I'm Aimee Satterfield, just as I was the day before yesterday."

"Day before yesterday?" he furrowed his brow in mock concentration, then shook his head. "Nope... don't remember."

I laughed at the fact that he was really getting into this game of "starting over". "I thank you again, Sir, for fetching my hat," I played along.

"A fine hat it is, Miss," he smirked, pulling his hand back. It was then that I felt a true sense of remorse at being so quick to judge him as crude and annoying my first day aboard the ship.

Feeling I owed him at least a decent conversation, and not feeling very put out about it this time around, I asked the only question I knew to ask. Fully knowing the answer, I hoped it didn't upset him too greatly. "So what brings you to America?"

Tommy paused a moment, looking back out to sea while bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. "Ah... well, I guess yeh could call it a family obligation, like."

"I see..."

"There's also plenty of work I hear. I mean ta find myself a lumber yard, it's what I'm good at," he continued. "How about yerself? American already, I could tell by the accent."

I nodded. "Yes. I intend to..." I trailed off, reminded yet again that I wasn't sure how to finish that sentence in my own heart. "... I'll find work somewhere, I suppose." That part I knew would have to be true.

"Hmm," he raised an eyebrow nonchalantly. I wondered if he could hear the hesitation in my voice.

"Well... it's nearing dinner time, isn't it Mr. Ryan?" I asked, finding Tommy to be warm but not willing to delve much deeper into personal matters than that.

I could see a brief expression of disappointment flit across his face, which he hid well by a charming smile. "That it is, Miss Satterfield."

Before he could offer to escort me, which he may not have even been planning on anyway, I shifted my weight to indicate I was about to walk away. "It was nice speaking with you."

"And yourself!" he gave a friendly wink, tipping his hat.

Feeling something strange in my chest, I walked back toward the dining saloon very puzzled about fifty different things at once. What they were exactly, I couldn't tell you.

Putting the conversation and more importantly Mr. Ryan's face out of my mind again, I headed for the dining saloon to meet Keely, trying to think instead about the piano that was waiting for me after dinner in the general room.

Dinner was another thing that seemed to go more pleasant than usual. Keely and I sat close to Mr. Cartmell and Cora, along with Mrs. McGalliard and her brood. It made for lively discussion, particularly when Mr. Cartmell began telling stories of his cobbler business. The entire table was in stitches by time for dessert.

Looking around at those passengers I had come to know just in the last few days, I felt my heart had lightened in ways I didn't think it could when I had first boarded this ship. Things weren't perfect, and I still harbored a fair amount of anger toward my father and my circumstances. But how could one be miserable around such kind, welcoming people?

The troubles that for some reason I felt I almost _needed_ began to seem very far away. Of course I realized they would still be waiting there for me when I disembarked this ship in New York. But until then, I felt like closing the lid on them for just a little while.

Thankfully, my high spirits held even when I retreated to the General Room later. What sight was waiting there to greet me but Jack Dawson himself, Rose on his arm as the music was beginning. I stopped so suddenly that Keely bumped into me from behind. "Ow, what was that for?" she asked, looking at what I was staring at.

"... A first class girl is down here," I murmured. "One that I know. I spoke to her just two days ago."

"... So?" Keely remarked. "Don't pay her any mind, this isn't her style. She'll likely leave in a minute. Oh wait, but look who she's with," she chuckled. "Handsome Mr. Dawson."

I gave myself an extra minute to begin to feel dejected or even angry. For some reason, it didn't come. Jack was the friendliest of men, and handsome to be sure, but the infatuation I had felt a day or so ago seemed to have evaporated. Was it my pride's defense? The fact that I figured I wouldn't see him again anyway? Or was it because, of all the first class girls he could have picked, I had a soft spot in my heart for Rose? Either way, I lifted a shoulder in a small shrug.

"Keely, we should dance."

"Us? You and I?" she laughed. "Whatever will the boys do?"

"They can watch," I smiled, taking her hand playfully.

Losing myself in the lively dancing was easy this time around. Certain the sips of beer here and there weren't hurting, I wasn't even bothered by the fact that I seemed to be getting passed off from one partner to the other. After Keely and I did a few rounds together, I came back to the dance floor with Mr. Cartmell at Cora's request. Laughing at the sight of such a stocky man dance so rigorously, I was then handed off to young Kerry. He grinned from ear to ear as we frolicked about in a nonsensical pattern, after which I went back to the table to take another few sips of my drink. Tossing a wave to Rose, who seemed to be having as good of a time as I was, I found myself wandering over to watch Tommy arm wrestle a Swede. It made me chuckle to watch how hard he focused on defeating his opponent, and how vigorously he protested any of his losses.

"I was just getting yeh down, you arse!" he shouted through laughing, and did something of a double take when he saw me off to the side of him. I gave a smile and waved nonchalantly, looking around for my next dance partner or someone to busy myself talking to. Relief came in the form of Cora, wanting me to show her how to braid Margaret's hair.

A couple more hours passed as I stayed busy with that activity alone. Once the doll's hair was braided to the extent of sticking straight out like a chimney sweeping urchin, Cora gave me a satisfied grin and took off to show her father.

"Ah, she's such a lovely girl," I sighed, then looked to the piano.

"I thought you'd forgotten," Keely remarked tiredly beside me.

I glanced over at the musicians, who were beginning to pack up for the night. Jack and Rose were nowhere to be seen. "Do you suppose it's too late to give you a concert?"

"Nah, go ahead. Besides," she leaned in. "Tommy's still here, and I think the lad's still got a pining, if yeh know what I mean."

Hiding my embarrassment with a chuckle, I stood up. "Well, let him pine if he wishes, but you're the one who ordered me down a piano. So this is for you."

"Och!" Keely sat back, stretching as though she were impartial.

Taking to the piano was like scratching an itch that had been there since a couple days ago when I last had the opportunity. I played song after song, losing track of the exact number after awhile. Beginning with spirited tunes, I mellowed the mood out with the slower ballads as a good number of people stayed behind to listen and continue chatting with one another. I felt completely in my element.

_"You're playing too slowly, Papa!" I laughed as my father pretended to falter at the keyboard of our grand piano._

_"Am I? I just can't figure out this next part!" He screwed his face up into a wrinkled-nose expression I always loved. "You don't happen to know it do you?" he implored "desperately"._

_"Course I do!"_

_"Then won't you show me, Love."_

_He gathered me onto his lap as I begin to play the song he was working on with ease, inhaling the scent of his Floris cologne and feeling so secure I could easily fall asleep there afterward._

I furrowed my brow, trying to focus on ending the song well that I was playing.

_"Ah! The concert has been saved by Miss Aimee Elizabeth Satterfield!" My father applauded the ending of the piece as I grinned up at him._

_"Time for bed now, Aimee." I turned to regard my mother's cool words as she hovered in the doorway._

_"Okay. Papa, take me!"_

My eyes felt a bit misty as the song came to a close, and I sat thinking of a final song to play.

_"I love you, my sweet girl." Papa kissed down my arm with a flourish after tucking the blankets in around me._

_"And I love you!"_

Making the decision for me it seemed, my fingers began to play the French children's song my father had loved and taught me early on, "A la Claire Fontaine". A simple yet haunting melody, I closed my eyes as my hands took flight.

_At the clear fountain While I was walking by I found the water so lovely That I went for a bathe_

It's been so long that I've loved you Never will your memory fade

I played through each verse of the song, feeling it was the glue that held me together as my eyes filled with tears.

I'd said goodbye to my father without so much as a tear when his polished black coffin was lowered into the gaping hole in the ground. So many things filled my mind all at once, but all I chose to focus on was how the air around me reeked of the sweet, nauseating smell of too many roses. Before the act was done, I turned and walked away.

_I lost my love Undeservingly For a bouquet of roses That I refused him_

It's been so long that I've loved you Never will your memory fade

My hands lingered on the keys of the piano long after the final strains of the song faded away. That's when I reached up to cover my face in order to catch the tears.

I wasn't angry at my father for leaving me broke. I was angry at him for leaving at all.


	9. Chapter 9

"Yaaaaughaaa!"

I sat bolt upright in the darkness of the stateroom, nearly cracking my head against the bottom of Keely's bunk. "What, what's happened?" I managed to say before I was even able to establish where I was.

Keely moaned and rolled over above me as one of our roommates jumped down from her bed and was fumbling for a light.

When she found one, I had to shield my eyes, but soon saw one of the Danish girls holding both sides of her face and looking around frantically, big doe eyes darting at last to the small window of the ship above us.

Her sister, who had turned on the light, jumped onto the bed beside her and rubbed her back, speaking a host of phrases in Danish. I finally managed to look around and spot the wall clock, which read something past two.

"I..." the girl started, before standing up and going over to look out the window. Taking a visible breath of relief, she came back and sat down in her bed, giving a shaky smile. "I am sorry, only bad dream," she managed in broken English.

"Must've been a hell of a bad dream," Keely murmured.

Nodding, the Danish girl lay back down, wrapping her covers around her. "I dream we sink. It crazy."

The girl's sister gave her a final smile and stood up to go turn out the lamp once more, satisfied everything was alright. "It all okay Lise, back to sleep." Without regarding anyone else further, she snapped off the light and the room fell into darkness again.

"Hmm," Keely grunted. "This ship wouldn't be the one to sink, that I can promise yeh." I heard her roll over again, and light snoring was coming from her bed in minutes.

Sinking ships being the very last thing in the world I liked to think about, I attempted to shut out the rude awakening and go back to sleep myself. Thank goodness it happened easily.

 

**************************************

 

"Good morninnng!" Keely greeted me the next morning, shaking the frame of the bunk.

"Hush," I murmured, pulling the covers up over my head.

"Ah come on, smile yer pretty face up here..." she countered, tugging on my blankets. "It's Sunday, and there's a church service. You strike me as a church-going kinda lass, get up!"

I sat up finally, peering at Keely strangely. "You're in an awfully good mood for someone who's in the condition to wake up sick of a morning."

"Exactly." Keely went to the sink and splashed water onto her rosy cheeks. "I got up an hour ago and couldn't go back ta sleep, so I've tha time ta pester yeh."

As I sat up and raked akimbo curls out of my face, my mind began to wander back to last night. Thankfully by the time I had been overcome with emotion, most of my listeners had dwindled away toward their beds with sleepy children. I had at first thought no one noticed until I soon felt Keely sit beside me on the piano stool and place her arm around me. "Now now... I didn't have a piano brought down to yeh ta send you into a fit of tears. Come Lass, let's head back. It's late."

Not wanting to wake the others, Keely and I sat in my bed while I talked about my father and did a good bit more crying until something past midnight. Talking about him after so long felt like a boulder had been plucked from my shoulders. But it having only been a few hours ago at this point since my melting down, she was likely still concerned.

"And you're going to services?" I asked, swinging my legs around to stand up.

"Haha! Are you kidding? No, I actually thought I'd take a stroll on deck. Feelin' cooped up these days," she replied, wrapping a scarf around her neck and sitting back down to wait for me. "Sinners don't belong in church, my ma always told me."

I wrinkled my nose, going over to the sink. "That sounds like something my mother would have said as well. But it's really kind of backwards, when you think about it. We've all done things to be ashamed of to varying degrees; it's a good thing God loves us anyway. At least, that's how my father believed." I washed my face, cringing at the coldness.

Keely snorted. "My father never talked about tha Lord at all. Funny how that never stopped him from quotin' tha Good Book at me when he found out my condition."

I shook my head. "I think we could all stand to do a little less quoting and a little more living. I mean myself even when I say that." Becoming distracted by my frizzy hair, I sighed. "I've been washing it too much..."

"Washing what?" Keely looked up, having busied herself with a loose strand of yarn in her scarf.

"My hair. Perhaps I should braid it today and leave it at that." For some unbidden reason, Tommy's face popped into my mind. "No... I'll tame it with a bit of water and use my combs."

"Yeh have a perfect thing about yer hair, Lass," Keely chuckled. "Good thing I know this by now and brought our breakfast back here instead of waitin' on yeh."

As much as I wanted to prove Keely wrong, I did end up taking a full hour to bathe myself and get ready for church. Finally when I was sizing myself up a final time in the mirror, Keely began to get impatient.

"I don't think Jack Dawson's a service-goin' type either, if that's what yer worryin' over. Come on!"

Forcing my eyes away from the mirror, I grabbed my shawl. "I know that, I wasn't thinking about him. Or anyone at all," I added quickly.

Shaking her head, Keely opened the door and we made our way toward the general room. Just before I reached the doors, we parted ways with the intent of meeting up at lunch in the dining saloon.

"Ah! Top of tha mornin' to yeh!" another Irish gentleman greeted me at the entrance. "It's a fine day tha Lord's given us."

"Buongiorno!" a dark-haired Italian with a handlebar mustache grinned from the other side.

I smiled at them, thinking not for the first time how the lower the station in life, the less people seemed to allow matters such as race, religion or background to get in the way of them bonding over things they did have in common. It was warming, and not at all what I'd experienced during my years in the aristocracy.

The general room was packed full, and just as everyone was standing to sing the first hymn, I found myself at a loss for where to go. Several rows of chairs were assembled together with an aisle in between, but there were so many people I was almost unable to tell where one row ended and another began. Many men were standing in the back to allow room for wives and children, but as I had arrived late I didn't intend to try to catch the eye of a man who would give up his seat for me.

Just then I caught sight of Tommy standing at the end of a row close to the front. He stood there holding a White Star hymnal in one hand for a woman who had her arms full with two children, his other hand in his pocket. Something about this struck me as charming and I couldn't help but smile.

My surprise was evident when he suddenly turned around for his eyes to sweep the back of the room, and almost immediately caught mine. This time I didn't work so hard to hide the smile and gave him a small wave of greeting. His face fairly lit up as he nodded to the woman next to him and slid out, making his way back toward me.

"Aimee," he greeted me in a whisper. "Are yeh well?" A look of concern crossed his face.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" I replied, then remembered that he must have been present still during my last song on the piano last night.

"I waited ta see yeh at breakfast," he continued, then flushed. This may have been something he didn't want me to know so directly.

"I'm fine," I smiled. "I'll talk to you about it later."

_Would I?_

The question seemed to have drifted into his mind as well and he looked at me for a moment, seeming slightly surprised. "Sit in my seat," he finally shook himself out of it and handed me his hymnal, pointing to where he was. I nodded and went to it, holding the book open as he had been doing for the mother of two. I wasn't sure why I felt a flush on my face, and I certainly wasn't sure I was happy about it. Even supposing... _supposing_... I'd had a change of heart about Tommy Ryan, it was wrong of me to do so now after turning him down already.

 _Don't make too much of it,_ I chided myself. _People have strange thoughts and feelings while traveling to a new place._

The piano had undoubtedly been taken back up to second class earlier in the morning, because we now sang "Eternal Father, Strong to Save" in scattered a capella. Afterwards there was a bit of scuffling about as chairs were pulled this way and that, and more men stood to let women who had filtered in have a seat.

I managed to keep my focus throughout the sermon despite the many distractions there were around me, and after the closing prayer I turned to find myself sweeping the crowd for Tommy's face. I didn't have to do this long, however, as in a moment he was at my side. "An' where's yer tag-along?" he winked.

"Keely? Oh, she... didn't feel up to services this morning. I believe she's out walking the deck," I replied, pulling my shawl from around the back of my chair.

"She's... caught up in somethin' rough, isn't she?"

I turned quickly, searching Tommy's eyes. "You know about that?"

He shrugged. "I don't be intendin' to listen to gossip, but it does reach a lad after a bit. Especially on a ship."

I nodded, thinking of how Keely's morning sickness along with her "free" behavior aboard the ship thus far probably spoke more than I'd counted on. "Yes, she's... very brave for coping with it so well."

"That she is," he shifted his weight and flushed. I realized illegitimate pregnancy wasn't the usual conversation to be having with a man, so quickly changed the subject for both of our comfort as we walked side-by-side out of the general room.

"Last night, I... just had a difficult moment is all. My father passed away not long ago, and the song I was playing reminded me of him."

Tommy nodded. "Ah, makes sense then."

I quickly realized how easy it was to talk to this man, and did so more than I'd originally intended. Instead of parting at the doors, I barely thought about the fact that I was following him out onto the deck as he asked me a few more questions about my father and I answered them. Once we reached the railing, however, I covered my carelessness quickly by pretending to search for Keely. "Hmm, I wonder where she went?"

"Well, it's a big ship ta be sure... but I doubt yeh'll lose her fer good even on here," he smirked. "She may pass us in a minute or two."

The conversation turned from my father to his work in lumber yards after awhile, and I listened with interest as this man described a lifetime of blue collar labor.

"My father did it before me," he added as we made our way in a slow stroll around the deck. "As I said about the builders of this ship..." he held up his hands for emphasis. "Big Irish hands are a force to be reckoned with."

I chuckled. "I'd not think to catch many of you near a piano in that case."

Smiling, Tommy turned his eyes to look ahead of us. "Yeh play well. I coulda nigh lost myself in that last night."

"I don't know that I could ever truly be happy if I didn't have a piano," I sighed, pausing to place my hands on the railing to lean back and tilt my head up slightly, loving the fresh breeze even if it was cold. I saw out of the corner of my eye how Tommy watched me as I did this, but I wasn't bothered by it at the moment. I even felt something of a drop in my chest when he quickly turned away from me as though reminding himself of a reality.

"Aye, so... do ya know what yeh'll do when yeh reach New York?"

We began to walk again as I foundered to sound like I had a definite plan.

"In other words," he gave a smile as he lit up a cigar. "Yeh don't know anything much."

I flushed. "I'm afraid that's true. I've not worked an actual job before, nor did I ever know many people in my circle who did. But it's the first logical step, being as I have no money of my own."

"Yer a strong lass, though," he countered gently. "I could tell it from the start. Yeh'll figure it out... and yeh'll go fer it."

I smiled at him, wanting to ask him suddenly if this was one of the things that drew him to me to begin with. But not wanting to sound like a tease or make him feel any more awkward than he probably already did, I stayed silent on the matter. Instead, I found myself taken by whim.

"Let me try that," I suddenly demanded, reaching for Tommy's cigar. "I was always told a proper woman shouldn't smoke."

He blinked. "You... want ta try it? Sure, just don't be getting' yer hopes up about it bein' easy the first-"

Having taken a larger than intended draw off the end of the cigar, I promptly felt as though I'd swallowed a candle whole and began to cough violently, thrusting it back at him. "Why would anyone... want to do that?" I choked out as he gave me a few pats on my upper back.

"There, there, yeh alright, Lass?" I could hear the laughter in his voice mingled with concern.

"Mm." I finally stood up straight and took a deep breath of clean air, placing my hand at my chest. "I think so, other than being in desperate need of water." I had to giggle at myself.

Tommy laughed once more. "I think I mighta turned green tha first time I had one. Come, let's find yeh a drink of something."

Still chuckling between ourselves as we descended the stairs to the dining saloon, I realized I had no idea what time it was and how long I had been with Tommy. What's more, I wasn't too concerned about it.

"Ah, there yeh go," he had gone to the counter to get a tumbler of tea for me, and came back to sit down. "An' yer sure yer alright?"

I nodded, taking a long swig. "Much better now that I've had that."

He gave another short laugh as he began to fidget with the tablecloth. I watched him for a moment.

"Might I ask you something?" I began, cautiously, finding I really wanted to know.

Looking up quickly, Tommy regarded me for an extra second. "Sure."

I cleared my throat to dispel the last of the smoky feel in my lungs. "Why did you want to court me?" Before the surprised look on his face could fully register, I went on. "It's no secret that I'm a spoiled little snob much of the time, and I nearly thrashed you when you danced with me the first time. There are plenty of good, kind girls on this ship, why didn't you go after one of them?"

Reaching up to rub the back of his neck as I noticed he had a habit of doing when nervous, Tommy glanced away for a moment. "Well... I don't think I can explain it."

When he saw that I was still looking at him for more of an answer than that, he continued.

"Yeh had this determined-like way about yeh. Stubborn even, maybe a bit like my mum," he shook his head, smiling. "But I could tell at tha same time that there was more than what was lyin' there on tha surface. Sort of a mystery, and I felt like if I could unlock it... I'd find somethin' more than what I could see off tha bat."

I nodded, pondering over this.

"... And, uh..." "Go on?" I prompted curiously.

"... I liked the way yeh tucked yer hair behind yer ear," he flushed. "The way yeh'd fumble with tha necklace yer always wearin' when yeh seemed to be thinkin' hard about somethin'."

It was my turn to flush. He had evidently studied me well the first day or so of the voyage.

Shifting in his seat as he began to fumble with a salt shaker, Tommy glanced up to meet my eyes again in an uncharacteristic shy moment. "... Well, and yeh have pretty eyes. Lovely hair, an' I've always had a thing for a lass with dimples."

Instinctively placing a hand to my forehead to hide my embarrassment, I chuckled. "... Thank you. For saying those things, even though you flatter me." Needing something to fumble with myself, I moved the toothpick holder toward me. Taking a deep breath, I opened my mouth to reply with something more, for once not taking time to even know for sure what it would be. "... I want you to know th-"

"Ahh, Tommy!" We were both jolted from the conversation as Fabrizio came over and slapped Tommy on the back. "I looked for you all over the place!"

I could tell Tommy had to force a laugh to an extent, likely as lost as I was in what we were talking about. "Sorry, sorry. What time is it?"

Looking at the clock above the door, I saw that it was nearing noon as there was another indication of lunch being soon – people drifting into the dining saloon.

"Good afternoon, Miss," Fabrizio cheerfully greeted in his Italian accent.

"Oh, good afternoon to you too," I smiled distractedly. There was no more time to finish any talking between Tommy and I as next I spotted Keely walking in alongside Mrs. McGalliard.

"Well, Mr. Ryan," I stood up from the table, but the look on his face told me there was no need for formalities now. "... Tommy, rather... I will see you this evening. It was a nice walk, and thank you for my tea."

Giving a brief nod, he sat back in his chair and took a refreshing breath to complete our abrupt transition. "It was a pleasure, Miss Aimee."

When I made it over to Keely, she was looking over my shoulder at the direction I came from. "What's this?"

"What's what?" I blinked. "Oh! I just ran into Mr. Ryan when I was looking for you earlier. He was kind enough to fetch me a glass of tea when I took a coughing spell. This cold air, you know."

Keely smirked. "Oh, I know alright. Come, let's sit."

I took my own deep breath, and nodded, following after.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd say one of my biggest fears when it comes to this story is that the balance between action vs. dialogue is a smidge off. I do realize there have been a lot of conversations so far, and granted they've usually been between different people... but I wish I could've provided more action through all this. As I said a few chapters ago, the bad thing is, my hands have been tied a good deal on what I could do due to the fact that I'm writing from third class, and there aren't as many opportunities to do exciting things. Not just that, but I think Aimee's kind of needed to form actual relationships (Keely, Mrs. McGalliard, Tommy) in order for her to have a change of heart. If you're a reader who's been dissatisfied so far with the overabundance of conversation and not enough action, trust me when I assure you that's all about to change with the sinking. I'm hoping to have several chapters alone devoted to just that.

It was late afternoon sometime when we heard about yet another iceberg warning.

"Ah yes, I suppose we are that far north, aren't we?" Mr. Cartmell was speaking to the young man who had come around with the news which he had overheard two officers discussing. "Don't worry yourself, Son. We sail with Captain Smith. A more skilled, watchful shipmaster you wouldn't find the world over. He'll get us through this to be sure."

"Oh, I'm not worried," the boy replied. "My father tells me this ship is built of the sturdiest iron there is. She'll just slice right through that ice like a knife through butter."

I listened with only partial interest, holding my book in front of me yet again, but as had been the case during the entire voyage so far, I was unable to focus for all the distraction.

Sitting on deck bundled up on the benches, Keely and I chuckled as two clusters of teenage boys made their own rugby-like game using walking sticks or umbrellas to slide various objects across the planks back and forth to one another. The object they used depended on how long they could get away with using one thing before they were caught, reprimanded, and had it taken away. Then they would find another.

Keely noted my continual pausing to look around. "Lookin' fer tha handsome Mister Ryan, are yeh?"

Having been so diligent before to brush the thought off, this time I answered truthfully. "I am."

"So what changed yer mind about 'im?"

I thought for a moment. "I'm not sure. I just... guess what I thought I was looking for in someone turned out not to be what I wanted after all." I sighed. "... Truthfully, I think Tommy reminded me somewhat of my father when I met him; and at the time, my father was the very last person I wanted to think about."

"Hmm," Keely grunted, shifting positions. "I have this crampin', like, in my stomach."

"Oh?" I turned to her.

She nodded. "Almost like a lass gets durin' her monthly, but we know that can't be the issue," she tried to chuckle, but grimaced.

"Maybe you should go lie down," I suggested. "It seems women in your condition have a lot of odd pains."

"Aye," she slowly raised up from the bench. I happened to glance past her then to see that First Officer Lowe was standing on the deck above ours, his eyes discreetly trained on Keely.

I smiled. "You might have an admirer."

"What?" Keely looked around, surprised. She caught Officer Lowe's eyes then and gave him a short wave, then glanced back at me with a puzzled expression. "Bet he's heard what I can do ta give lads a good time," she rolled her eyes.

I flushed at the mention of such improper things, but shook my head. "He's not propositioned you, has he?"

"No, no. I think he's tryin' to act all virtuous fer tha moment, but mark my words. He will."

Sighing, I realized how much work it might take at this point for Keely's mind to be changed about the existence of honorable men in the world. "Alright, well go rest. I'll come check on you later."

She nodded, and headed below deck. I couldn't resist glancing back over to Officer Lowe and giving a knowing smile. It wasn't so obvious due to his hat shielding part of his face, but I thought I detected a blush.

"Hey, Aimee," Someone had plopped down onto the bench next to me.

"Ah!" I jumped in surprise, turning around. "...Ah," I repeated for lack of other words.

Jack gave me a smile as he stretched out, sighing while he watched the ocean ripple trailing behind the liner.

"Did... Rose have fun down here last night?" I finally thought of something. "I saw you two dancing.

He was quiet a moment, and I was about to repeat myself before he shrugged. "She had a great time, but I don't think it was enough to pull her out of the spider's web."

"How do you mean?"

I listened with interest as Jack repeated to me how he could read all over Rose's face that she wanted to choose a different path, _needed_ to. Yet the pull from her mother and her fiancee Cal had been too strong, and earlier that morning she had told him to stop coming around for good.

"... And I was this close to kissing her," Jack held his fingers up to emphasize. "Something tells me if I'd have done that... it would've given her the strength she needed to break away."

I sat thinking for a moment about what Jack said. This was the first time I'd seen him the least bit stressed out since we'd met, and I could tell this was a very big deal to him.

"The thing is, Jack," I began, not knowing for sure how to put this because I was just sorting it out for myself, "sometimes a girl has to swear something off before she realizes that, without it, she's missed perhaps one of the greatest opportunities for change that will ever come along. If you made the kind of impact on Rose that you sense you did, she still feels it, I assure you; and the odds are good that she'll be back to take you up on all that you promised her."

Jack shook his head. "It wasn't a lot that I could promise her. Just my love, and a life full of adventure..." he brought a hand up to rub his face, looking weary with all of this.

Just then, my attention was promptly pulled away. Tommy had come on deck with Fabrizio and his apparent love interest Helga. The three were lost in their own talk, so he didn't see me, but I watched him for several minutes before Jack waved a hand in front of my face, chuckling.

"Which one, Tommy or Fabri?"

"Oh," I flushed. "... I..." still finding it hard to answer, I gave up on trying to sound sophisticated and ladylike while speaking of a crush. "Is Tommy a good man?" I looked at Jack suddenly. "You're with him a lot of the time, I want to know your honest opinion."

Jack looked at me, a bit surprised. "Tommy? Oh, sure he is," he replied, the paused. "... You're the one!" He burst out laughing.

"The one?" my brow furrowed.

"Yeah yeah, the one he was going on to Fabri and me about the other day. He uh... said he met a girl, and she might be a little hard to figure out, but he meant to give it a try anyway. I haven't talked to him much since then, as I've been a little... preoccupied... but the way he described her, it had to be you."

I glanced down momentarily. "Well... it may have been me at the time, but I've since turned him down."

"Why?" Jack leaned forward. "You might be used to fancier men, but Tommy's as fine as they come."

I nodded. "And now I can see that. But at the time..." it was my turn to flush. "At the time, I was distracted by something else I thought was...going to work out."

"Then go tell him you changed your mind," Jack countered immediately, obviously not seeing why this would be an issue. "Everything you just told me about women needing time to realize what they could lose? Won't you apply that to yourself and go after it?"

Hesitating, I toyed with the fringe of my scarf.

"Hey, if Rose would come back to me right now and tell me she'd changed her mind," his face became serious as he looked out over the water again. "It wouldn't matter to me that she turned me down once. The important thing is, she came back."

Wanting to get the subject off Tommy and I as I needed to think about it, and feeling sympathy for Jack's countenance... I found the words coming out of my mouth before I'd properly thought them through.

"Jack, would you like me to talk to Rose?"

He turned quickly. "What? No offense, Aimee, but... a third class girl she doesn't even know approaching her to tell her to give some guy a chance again, that may not work so well..."

"I know her," I stood up. "We went to finishing school together."

Jack's jaw seemed to drop, and I wondered if he was frustrated at not having known this earlier so he could utilize the connection if he needed it.

"Stay here so I can find you afterward. I will come back, even if it might take awhile to figure out how to get up to the first class decks unscathed..."

I stared up above me at all the parasols that could be seen above the railing, moving across the deck. Was I really clever enough to do this?


	11. Chapter 11

I went back to the room and begin rifling through the dresses in my closet, searching for the best one I had. Most of my nicer things I had sold out of necessity, but I still kept what I can spare. I found a powder blue dress that I had particularly loved, silk grosgrain with a trumpet-shaped skirt bearing two ruffles around the hem. Wishing I had a nice hat, I took out the barrette with the cats on it.

"What are ya about?" I heard Keely mumble, lying almost face down on her bed.

"Oh, just..." I rummaged through my jewelry and found a necklace, "... headed to take a walk."

She snorted. "What path could yeh possibly walk on our deck that we haven't already walked a hundred times? I'll be so happy ta get off this boat..."

"Don't fret, we've only got three days at most until we're in New York," I replied to her, going over to the mirror to fix my hair with this and put the necklace on. Now for nice shoes... although I didn't remember keeping any of those.

"If I were a more clever girl," Keely went on, still without rolling over, "I'd figure a way ta get upstairs to those Turkish baths. I don't even know what a Turkish bath is, but it sounds a lot better than anything I've ever been in."

"Yes, they're pretty nice," I mused, thinking it ironic that adventurous Keely was talking about sneaking into first class while a well-behaved girl like myself was preparing to actually do it.

Deciding my best boots, which were still relatively scuffed up, would have to do, I put them on quickly and looked over the finished product in the mirror. "Well, I'll be back in a bit. Keep resting."

"Yah, yah."

Reminding myself how lax I had gotten with posture and mannerisms since I had been of a lower social class, I straightened my back and corrected my gait as I walked along the third class deck, examining how exactly I would go about doing this.

It had been a bit easier to sneak into the first class dining room to play the piano, but the actual first class staterooms were another matter. In addition, I noticed someone guarding the staircase that hadn't been guarded a few days ago. I wondered if he could be distracted.

Feeling rather impish for doing so, I spotted a bottle of brandy close by that I had seen a man drinking from earlier. It sat unguarded as the gentleman was now distracted by the boys' game, and I quickly snatched it up. I hid around the corner and tossed the bottle at an angle I thought was up and over the railing of one of the other decks, hoping it wouldn't hit anyone. My plan worked beautifully as I heard the glass shatter against the wooden planks and a woman scream out of fright.

"Now see here! What's the trouble?" the officer exclaimed, leaving his post and rushing over just as I was making my way quickly toward the stairs leading to second class. I quickly made my way up the steps and slipped behind one of the lifeboats lining the deck. When all was clear, I realized I could have an easier and quicker trip to the first class deck by climbing atop one, pulling myself the rest of the way onto the rope, and slipping underneath the railing at the inconspicuous point I was at. I would have to be fast, though, for the officer who was guarding close by could be back at any moment.

I sighed, making a brief visual plan of how I would do it. Why hadn't I stayed out of this and let Jack deal with his own issues? But I felt I owed Rose, at least, for hammering home a few words I'd needed to hear.

Wondering exactly how smudged my dress might get, I delicately placed a boot on the edge of the lifeboat and pulled myself up with the rope. Feeling rather foolish but glad I'd taken a few years of being a tomboy as a child and learning this sort of thing, I made sure no one was looking still and raised my skirts enough so that if anything would be smudged, it would be my petticoat.

The climb was a tough one, and I was reminded of how long it had been since I'd done anything like this. Panting in a most unbecoming way as I reached the top and feeling my hair to be askew, I managed to duck behind one of the guard houses and put everything aright before stepping out and once again straightening my back.

 _I belong here anyway_ , I tried to tell myself, hoping it would help me look confident enough to keep suspicion away. It was an odd sort of feeling that came over me, however, when I reached the brunt of the deck traffic and stared around me at the women in perfectly tailored ensembles and hats idling the day away discussing society. This had been me not so long ago... but now, I was beginning to notice something.

I really didn't want to be here. The warmth I had been feeling among the passengers in steerage was lacking in this environment – and I wanted to get back to it as quickly as possible. Attracting little attention so far and thankful for it, I tried to keep my pace from becoming too frantic as I walked inside toward the main staircase. The intricate carvings surrounding the clock situated on the wall nearly took my breath away.

"Focus," I whispered, catching sight of a rather backward looking steward. This may be a good opportunity.

"Steward," I raised my hand in the appropriate motion. "I'm looking for the room of a certain Rose DeWitt Bukater. I've a book to return to her, and would like to do it personally."

"Ah, yes ma'am. Room B53 is what you're looking for,"

"Right, of course. I'm afraid I'd forgotten," I gave him a charming smile before ascending the beautiful grand staircase.

As I reached the stateroom hallways, I was afraid my luck was beginning to run out when I heard mumbles coming from behind me and felt eyes staring at my back. People were starting to find they didn't recognize me.

Having to will myself not to speed up, I finally found the stateroom and knocked, hoping upon hope that Rose would be in her room. If not, it was all a giant waste of effort.

A young maidservant with a white cap perched atop her dark hair answered. "May I help you, Miss?"

"Yes, I'm looking for Miss Rose DeWitt Bukater," I replied. "Tell her... Aimee S. is here to see her."

Uncertainty flashed in the woman's eyes as she nodded. "I'll speak with her at once, Ma'am."

Hoping "at once" would be almost instantaneous as I was growing nervous, I stood making sure to keep facing the door.

A moment later, the maid returned. "She will see you, Miss S."

Trying not to nearly plow past the woman for the shelter of Rose's stateroom, I gave a gracious smile and entered.

Rose had come out to the sitting room to greet me. I could tell by her face that she had likely spent the last few hours crying. "Aimee? What are you doing, how were you admitted up here?" she marveled.

"I wasn't," I replied, inviting myself to sit down in a plush armchair, spent by the adrenalin rush that had gotten me here. "I was lucky, I suppose... and I can't stay long. But there's something I just feel like I should tell you."

Sitting down in a chair across from me, Rose glanced to her maid. "Leave us, please, Trudy."

The woman gave an obedient nod before she left the room. Rose turned back to me. "What is it, Aimee?"

"Don't settle for what's safe," I found myself speaking before I even had to ask myself what exactly I wanted to say. "I realize you're embedded in this life of luxury... it was how we were brought up. But trust me: if the hardest thing you ever end up doing is leaving all this behind for a life beneath what you know... yet with someone who makes you feel truly alive..." I shook my head, "it will be worth it."

Rose stared at me for a moment. "... How did you know? Have you talked to... to him?" Just at the mere reference to Jack, I saw a heartrending desperation etch itself across her face.

I nodded. "He didn't tell me much, so I don't know very many details about your situation, but I'm telling you. If you leave this high-brow society with all of its prejudices and all its lofty expectations... it will open up the world to you. Please, I can say it because I know."

We sat in silence regarding one another for a full minute before I stood up and backed toward the door. "I have to go, I'm sorry... just, think about this. Promise me that much at least."

Rose stood as well. "Aimee...?"

I turned once more. "Yes?"

She smiled. Not a smile of a burden being completely lifted, but that of a small chink having been made in a high, thick wall to allow sunlight in. "Thank you."

Returning her smile and feeling glad I'd pushed myself to do this, I saw myself out.

Being it was close to dinnertime, the hallways were slightly more full than they had been a few minutes ago, ladies being escorted down by husbands, sons and fathers. I hadn't counted on this, so I tried to just walk quickly and keep my face forward. So far, so good.

I had made it out onto the deck and was making my way quickly for the secluded part I had climbed up onto when someone behind me blew a whistle. I froze my steps, bringing a hand up to nervously push a strand of loose hair behind my ear.

"Turn around to face me, Miss."

Swallowing hard, I did so, trying to keep my mannerisms proper.

The officer was young with sharp, unforgiving eyes. "You aren't to be this far back on the ship, Miss. Didn't you read the sign?" He pointed to the one mounted.

"Why no, I'm afraid I didn't see that!" I gasped. "I'm dreadfully sorry, I'll-"

"Wait." He studied my face for a moment, a moment that seemed to last five. "I've seen you, and not on this deck. You're..." he paused, looking down at my boots which I really wished I had a way to hide just then. "You're steerage, aren't you?"

"I beg your pardon," I tried to sound indignant and insulted.

He chuckled smartly. "Oh yes, you are. I never forget a face, Missy. Now come with me, we're finding the Master at Arms."


	12. Chapter 12

My heart jumped to my throat, and I immediately wanted to cry. Never in my twenty years had I been in trouble for anything at all, yet here I was headed down to see the Master at Arms on the _Titanic_ for trespassing. I could see Keely grinning at me already, which made me have to suppress a chuckle in spite of myself.

I kept up a pretty brave face, however, and begin right away to work on my story.

The young officer took my arm in a firm hold as he led me away. "Now, come along, Miss."

If I hadn't gotten plenty of exercise from climbing the rope earlier, I was certainly going to get it now. Not bothering to take the lifts, the officer led me down flight after flight of stairs to the Master at Arms' office. Upon seeing he wasn't there, he gave an exasperated sigh, and back up we went. There was a bit of trouble locating the man just then, as the officer asked steward after steward if they had seen him.

With each one who told him they didn't know, my hopes kept getting higher and higher that he would let the matter go and release me with a warning. No such luck was to be had, however, after we encountered an Officer Moody.

"I'm looking for the Master at Arms, doesn't anyone know where he is?" the man holding me asked in an irate tone.

"Oh, yes Sir! He's on the steerage deck lecturing a group of boys who threw a brandy bottle at second class."

I winced.

"Ah, then I'm off to see him at once," the officer replied. "Thank you."

Sighing, I made sure to keep my stride even with his for pride's sake. He already had a hand on my arm, I certainly didn't want it to look like he was dragging me and warrant even more attention.

I immediately flushed as we made our way to my deck. How many of my fellow passengers were about to see me get lectured, or even held in solitude in the office for a few hours? What if Tommy saw it? My cheeks burned with humiliation.

The Master at Arms was a short, stocky fellow who looked like someone who stays in good humor most of the time. But at the moment, he was solemnly regarding several men who stood next to their sons – the team of boys who had been playing on deck earlier.

"I understand boys will be boys, but if this happens again, the punishment will be more severe. Someone could have been hurt or even killed, and now there's a tremendous mess up there to clean up."

I guiltily averted my eyes.

"Oh, right on, Sir. Trust me, it won't," an indignant mother replied as she took her son by the ear. "What were you all thinking?" she landed in to him as they started off. "If I hadn't thrown my shoulder out yesterday, I'd give you a good thrashing!" She continued to huff angrily at her wincing son until they were out of hearing range.

"Now," the gentleman turned to us after he'd finished dealing with the parents. "What do we have here?"

"Steerage passenger strolling along the first class deck, Sir, and in an off-limits location at that," the young officer stated firmly.

The Master at Arms turned to me. "And what do you have to say for yourself, Miss?"

Before I could open my mouth, a familiar voice came from behind me.

"Madge!"

I turned around in confusion which turned to embarrassment when I saw Tommy coming toward us.

"Madge, where have yeh been, Lass! I've looked tha bleedin' ship over for yeh!" He came over and gently took my other arm.

"Is this your wife, Man?" the Master at Arms inquired when I thought my face could never grow redder than it was at the moment.

I thought I caught a blush tint Tommy's face as well, but he kept his expression steady. "That she is. What's tha trouble?"

"We caught her trespassing on the first class deck, in an area roped off to everyone," the young officer spoke first. "There aren't many excuses for the behavior as you can see we have signs everywhere aboard this ship."

The Master at Arms nodded. "Yes. We take the trespassing matter seriously as, if one or two people do it and think they can get away with it, there will be no order to things a'tall."

Tommy put an arm around me protectively, causing my heart to flutter. "Absolutely lads, no doubt about it." He sighed heavily then, and looked down at me. "It looks like I may have to keep an even better eye on ya after all. I thought I was doin' my part to keep 'er out of trouble, but..." he trailed off, and I was curious for where this was going when he looked over at the Master at Arms solemnly. "It was an ice skatin' accident, see, back in Ireland. Poor lass fell through tha ice, took a terrible fever. Nearly didn't pull through it," he paused, rubbing his forehead. "Thank tha Lord she did, but tha doctor told me 'er mind was a little worse for tha wear. She keeps wanderin' off on me."

Glancing over at the men, I could see them watching Tommy with slight concern on their faces. "Is she..." the Master at Arms began, looking over at me and then lowering his voice to Tommy, "... are you saying she's become a lunatic, Man?"

Giving me a good shoulder squeeze, Tommy didn't answer but glanced off with a furrowed brow. "... I don't like ta say such things, yeh understand, but... it may be comin' down to it. We're headed to America ta see a doctor her mum and dad recommended. They live there, over in..." Tommy paused, and I became nervous wondering if he was going to be able to remember American locations off the top of his head, when he finally came thru: "Vermont," he finished, and I had to practically purse my lips to keep from smiling at the way he rolled the _r'_ s. "Aye, a doctor in Vermont."

"So I see," the Master at Arms studied me. I worked hard to keep my eyes as blank as possible.

"Only yesterday she forgot three times where we were," Tommy continued, shaking his head. "It's a hard thing, but as my mum always said, tha Lord never puts on us more than we can bear."

The young officer cleared his throat uneasily and nodded.

"Ah! Well then," the Master at Arms shifted his weight. "I suppose in light of the circumstances it wouldn't be fitting to punish her over it this time. Just see you keep a good eye on your wife at all times from here on out, Fellow. Provided that, I'll let you go with a warning."

I turned and looked up at Tommy, unable to help myself anymore. "What are we on about, Darling?"

He glanced back to the men and shook his head as he prepared for us to walk away. "I'll tell yeh later, Dear."

The two officers looked on in sympathy.

"Thank ya kindly fer the slack yeh gave us, Sir. Good day to tha both of yeh," he tipped his hat, gently turning me around with him.

We walked straight-faced, not looking at one another, until we were sure they had turned away. I was the first to break down laughing. "Madge? The first name you come up with is Madge?"

"Well I didn't have a lot of time ta think," he laughed as well. "Would yeh rather I'd taken tha time ta come up with somethin' classy and spoke up just as he was haulin' yeh away?"

I flushed. "It was... a misunderstanding," I informed him, realizing my reddened cheeks were more because his arm was still around me than being embarrassed.

Almost as though he read my mind, Tommy let his arm drop. "Runnin' about tha first class deck, eh? Do yeh miss it all that much?"

"No," I shook my head. "Actually... in being up there, I realized just how little I do miss it." I could have gone into explaining what I was doing on first class, but suddenly I wanted to talk to Tommy about anything – and everything – else. Glancing up at his face out the corner of my eye, I was overtaken by the desire to count each and every one of his eyelashes, full and thick as they were.

Tommy turned to meet my eyes, and I quickly looked away. He seemed to watch my face for a moment. "... Yer okay now, right?"

I smiled, glancing down. "I am. Thank you for doing that. How on earth did you come up with that whole thing?"

"Easy," he shrugged, grinning. "I'm Irish, we're natural storytellers."

"Yes you are," I chuckled. "I would've taken up an entire afternoon fabricating that."

"Would yeh like an escort ta dinner tonight, Aimee?" I looked over, noticing he had stopped in front of the stairway to the dining saloon and was regarding me with serious eyes.

"Yes," I replied, hoping it hadn't been too quickly. "I would like that very much."

Tommy reached a hand up, nervously removing his hat and holding out his arm with a grin. "Is this the way the upscale lads do it?"

I smiled wryly and took his arm. "Who cares?"

Dinner was lively as usual, if not moreso with Tommy regaling the story of my "rescue" from the Master at Arms. As if the story in and of itself weren't interesting enough, Tommy made it ten times better with his big retelling. For the rest of the evening everyone regarded me Madge, and Mr. Cartmell even asked me if I remembered my way to the general room. I did more laughing than I'd done in quite awhile.

Keely was feeling better by the time we all congregated in the general room for music and dancing, but still wasn't too keen on moving around very much. So she spent her less occupied time making mock kissing faces at me from where she sat every time Tommy's back was turned. I flushed, but more with pleasure than anything.

I remained by Tommy's side for most of the evening. We danced a couple rounds and I watched him engage in his nightly ritual of arm-wrestling until people began to drift toward the berths. Looking up at the wall clock to see exactly how much time had passed, I was throughly surprised to see that it read after nine.

"Has anyone seen Jack?" Fabrizio asked from his card-playing table. After doing a quick sweep of the room with my eyes, I smiled at him. "Maybe he had somewhere else to be," I replied, hoping my efforts with Rose weren't for nothing.

Watching the fellows play cards and arm-wrestle proved to be entertaining enough, but when I noticed that most of the women had left, I began to feel self-conscious about being the only one in a room full of men. I wanted more than anything to say goodnight to Tommy alone before I went to my own berth, but I didn't want to be forward. Perhaps a bit of hinting was in order?

"Well," I finally stood, smoothing my skirt. "I suppose I'll turn in for the evening, gentleman. Thank you for the company."

My plan worked. Tommy lifted his head and regarded me, eyebrows raised. "Oh?"

I turned nonchalantly. "I believe so. I might go get some fresh air first, though. They say it's a very calm night." A smile played at my lips as my eyes met his.

"... Right! I'll go with you," Tommy hefted himself up and grabbed his coat across the back of the chair. "A lass shouldn't walk the decks alone."

"Oh, I can assure you, I've done it plenty of times," I couldn't resist the tease, wrapping my scarf around my neck.

"Yes well," he gently placed a hand on my arm. "Yeh won't be doin' it tonight."

I smiled to myself as we made our way outside, and were immediately hit with the cold air.

"Fresh air, eh?" Tommy rubbed his hands together. "Yer like to have icicles hangin' out yer hair before it's over."

I chuckled. "We won't stay for long." I took a deep breath, the cold stinging my lungs as I glanced up. "Look at the sky. No stars whatsoever tonight." "No," Tommy agreed. "There aren't."

We walked over to a bench and sat down, it being all I could do to keep from huddling close to him. "I had fun tonight."

"Did yeh now?" Tommy grinned. "Good, good. I was hopin' so. A lot better than the night I snatched yeh up to dance, eh?"

"You know, that... really wasn't as bad as I made it out to be, Tommy," I finally admitted. "When I came onto this ship, I was spoiled... and I was angry." I watched the smoke roiling from the nearest towering steamer. "I like to think that's changed about me now."

"It has," Tommy replied, and I could feel him watching my face. "I can tell a difference."

I took a deep breath and decided then to finally look at Tommy while he was looking at me. I felt a shudder trace its way down my back, and not from the cold.

He held my eyes with his for a moment. "Aimee..." he leaned forward a bit, but just at the last second, I turned my head. I felt his lips catch my cheek instead, then move to my ear.

I swallowed hard, loving the feel of his breath against my face. I wanted to live in this moment and not say what was working its way to the surface, but I couldn't stop the words from spilling out. "What about when we get to New York? You have things to do, places to go. And I..."

"You what?" Tommy questioned, putting an arm around my shoulders. "Last I checked, yeh didn't have any firm plans. So why don't yeh let me help you decide on a few?"

I bit my lip, not making any move to get up and run... something I would have done days before; but also not talking.

"Aimee," he began again, and I could hear slight traces of frustration in his voice. "Yer the lass I want to leave this ship with. Not only are yeh beautiful and smart, but... yer strong-minded and I wager yeh'll always keep me guessin'. But... don't make wear myself out on all the guessin' now. One minute yeh look at me like..." he paused, sighing. "Is it really so hard for yeh to make up yer mind? Or are you just..."

I looked back at him for a moment as he trailed off. "Am I what?"

"Are you... just playing a game?"

I opened my mouth to answer him, but no words came. How could I explain? I thought of telling him how I'd never had any experience with men in my entire twenty years; how I found him so adorably handsome these days that I felt numb all over just when I looked at him; how I was sorry I was so stupid, and it took me half the voyage to realize his worth. I think I tried to say all of this at once, yet... the only thing I was able to do was take a trembling breath against my nervousness and lean forward.

He met my lips instantly with his, having likely been waiting and hoping for the chance to do it all along. The passion of his kiss took me by surprise. It was gentle, yet fervent, and I became lost in it easily. Placing a hand on each of my arms to keep me near him, he paused it at one point, leaning his forehead against mine. "Did that make yeh any more sure at all?"

Not caring how forward or unlady like it may be, I placed my hand against the back of his head and drew him close for another kiss. After a moment more, we broke off for the final time, and, feeling almost faint from my heart racing so, I fell easily into his embrace.

He kissed my forehead once more before we both became quiet, just content to be in one another's arms.

We sat there for probably close to a half hour before I realized how late it must truly be getting. "Tommy... I have to go." I forced myself to pull away from him, standing up slowly.

Holding onto my hand until the last minute, he stared up at me. "Will I see yeh first thing in the morning at breakfast?"

I smiled. "That you will," I assured him. "We'll have the whole day. Then all of the next day; and when we get to New York," I paused, "... we'll see what happens."

It was assurance enough for him, and he gave my hand one final squeeze before letting it go, winking. "Sleep well, Lass."

"You as well," I brought my hand up to his cheek for a lingering moment before turning and walking away, the very hardest thing I realized I'd had to do so far on this voyage. My heart felt like it could go soaring out of my chest at any moment, and I couldn't contain my grin as I walked away from him toward my room. Taking a deep breath, I took one final look up at the starless sky. Things surely couldn't get any better.


	13. Chapter 13

I had just managed to fall into a decent sleep when I was jarred by the shudder.

Rolling onto my back, now wide awake, I wondered for a few seconds if I had dreamed it until the Danish sisters sat up in bed promptly. I heard Keely stirring above me.

"Wha-"

"Shh," I sat up in bed and listened. It took a moment for me to notice any other out-of-the-ordinary sounds, but a few distant shouts could be heard from somewhere below us in the bowls of the ship.

"Hmm," Keely began, flopping around to get comfortable once more. "I bet we threw a propeller blade, or else maybe a boiler..." she stopped mid-sentence to yawn, "...did somethin' boilers aren't supposed ta do, whate're that be. I dunno anythin' about them. They'll fix it."

I could feel the other girls' eyes watching me with uncertainty, as though weighing in on whether or not I subscribed to Keely's apathy.

"I'm sure everything's fine," I finally spoke up. "There are plenty of people on this ship that know what they're doing, and if it were anything truly bad, I'm sure there would be more of a hoopla than we've heard so far."

I lay my head back against my pillow, hoping the sisters would do the same so I could feel more self-assured about our theory.

We all bundled up once again underneath our covers, yet I could tell by the breathing in the room that no one was actually falling back to sleep. I strained to hear more, but the only sound that was really odd to me at that point was... silence.

"Engines not running," one of the Danish girls whispered.

Perhaps it was total refusal to acknowledge the nagging in my stomach that something could, in fact, be truly wrong, but I rolled back over facing the wall and closed my eyes. I waited for the engines to start back. They didn't.

Despite the air of nervousness in the room, no one got up to turn on a light until perhaps five or ten minutes later – when we heard an all-too-familiar sloshing sound that had seemed to creep its way into the room.

"That's water," Keely bolted upright.

Sheets and pillows seemed to go everywhere suddenly as the rest of us threw them off. Instinctively I swung my legs over the edge of my bed to see if it were really true, and it didn't take me but a split second to find out.

I shrieked as my feet made contact with the ice cold water, but I pulled myself up anyway, and holding onto the bunk frame for support, reached over to flip on the light.

" _Ah nej Gud frelse os_!" One of the Danish sisters exclaimed shrilly, covering her mouth in horror the moment the floor of the room was revealed to be covered in at least three inches of water. Feeling panic rise in my own chest, I had to fight down the urge not to snap at her for making it worse.

"Alright..." I ran a hand over my eyes, trying to make sense out of what was going on suddenly. "Something's happened."

"Do yeh think so truly, Aimee?" Keely was making her way quickly down the ladder. "GUH!" she exclaimed upon reaching the ground. "This water's freezin'! Come on, up with you two!" Going over to the other set of bunks, she began to practically pull the other girls out of their beds.

I stood there numbly trying to force myself into action when suddenly there was a thunderous pounding on the door. "Aimee!"

Upon recognizing the voice, I turned quickly and opened it. "I'm here, we're up," I immediately assured.

"Come, we've got ta hurry, this ship's bloody sinkin'!" Tommy was struggling to put on his brown overshirt while carrying his shoes and jacket. "Grab what yeh need and let's go!"

I felt my stomach drop as he said the words aloud, and my immediate response bordered on absolute denial. "No, it's... they'll fix this, whatever it is. Maybe it's as simple as patching a leak."

"Aimee... no. Come now, Lass," Tommy regarded me more seriously than I'd ever seen him before as he gently pulled my arm. "The water's risin', we've got ta get out."

"Don't have ta tell me twice," Keely pushed into me from behind.

A door down the hall was thrown open just then, and Fabrizio stuck his head out, looking both ways in confusion.

"Fabri! Come on," Tommy paused next to the door before directing us onward. "The lot of you, let's go!"

We made it to the end of one hall before Fabrizio and his roommates caught up with us, struggling to fasten the bags they'd grabbed in their haste. "What happened?" he questioned Tommy in his thick Italian accent. "The floor was covered! _Acqua_!"

Before Tommy was able to answer, we were all nearly trampled by my Danish roommates who shoved past us carrying every bag they had brought onto the ship.

They certainly weren't the only ones. I stared around me in amazement at how many people had abandoned their berths already and were scurrying to put on jackets, caps, and shoes while chattering anxiously in what seemed to be fifty different languages.

Who could blame them? Down the hallway, a thin sheet of water was rushing in underneath a door, and a woman somewhere behind us shrieked. Getting swept up in the madness and unable as of yet to find words to protest, I allowed myself to be pulled along by Tommy, Keely close behind us and still barefoot.

"It was an iceberg; young Henry Bates saw it hit!" an Englishman, struggling with getting a large case through his doorframe, was calling down to another man who stood watching.

"I heard we threw a propeller blade!"

"Stuff an' nonsense! If it were a propeller blade, why would there be water all over the bleedin' place? Get your wife and daughters, Man, let's go!"

I felt a lurch in my stomach hearing the whispers and outright yells that surrounded us on each side. Some were outlandish tales of what the ship had collided with, but the word that I heard circulating on the air the most was "iceberg".

Tommy continued to talk to Fabrizio in his own excitement. "I told 'em all, a boat of iron can still sink as good as anything. But no, they went on and on about this unsinkable ship of theirs."

Glad he seemed to have better bearings on where we were going than I did, I followed along silently, weaving in and out of the mass of steerage passengers who were spilling out into the hallway, increasingly aware of the trouble.

"Tommy," I finally found my voice as we rounded yet another corner and made our way quickly up a flight of steps. "This ship isn't going to sink. It can't... it won't."

"I assure yeh it can, Lass. And you 'n me aren't going ta be around ta see it, we're finding one of those boats and getting' tha hell out of here." Tommy didn't look back, but his iron grip still held my arm as we whipped off the staircase onto F Deck and found ourselves facing another hallway, thankfully a bit less hectic than the one below.

"No, stop!" I retorted before I could think, stopping and pulling away from him. Keely blinked. "We're all making a big affair out of nothing, it's... it's a little trouble, but this ship will not sink from under us! There might have been a small leak, or maybe the pool has flooded somehow, but we're not just going to... to SINK!"

I needed this to be true. I could not swim and had never been a fan of walking very close to the seashore as a child. A steamliner was a means of travel that couldn't be avoided if you were crossing the ocean, but part of the reason I'd hated third class was because of how close it was to the bottom of the boat. Remembering how the water had briefly covered the window of our berth a couple days before and the anxiety it caused me, I felt myself nearly double over with nausea.

Tommy finally quietened and stared at me, as though he didn't know what to say for once. It was Keely who took my arms. "Aimee... maybe that's true, and maybe it ain't. But better safe than sorry, we've got ta get up higher. Now, before tha place turns completely upside down."

Before I could reply, I heard hideous little squeals behind me. Turning quickly, I watched with horror as more rats than I'd ever seen in one place at a time raced up the incline to get away from the water which was steadily rising.

Placing my hands against the wall behind me, I could feel my knees growing weak.

_It's true. It's really true._

"Aimee." A pair of strong arms reached out and helped me stay on my feet.

"It's sinking," I murmured. "This ship is going to sink."

"Aimee?" Tommy repeated my name. "Lass, I won't let anythin' happen to yeh. Look up here."

I finally made myself look up to search his earnest eyes.

"Yer with Tommy Ryan, an' I'll not live a moment past when I can see yeh safe and sound. Do yeh understand?"

Despite his earlier state of panic, I noticed Tommy's words toward me now were calm and sincere. Somehow, they infused me with just enough strength to carry on with the group.

Nodding while taking deep, calming breaths, I forced myself into action made easier by Tommy's steadying arm about my shoulders. "Now, let's make a go of it. If this is tha direction tha rats are headin', it's good enough fer me."


	14. Chapter 14

Reaching the boat deck should have been easy. It turned out to be anything but.

Tommy had moved along quickly, a hand holding my arm at all times. I, in turn, held onto Keely's hand with my other one, just focusing on not losing her in the crowd.

"I wish you'd brought shoes with you, Keely," I called back at one point as we struggled to make it through the masses to ascend the stairs to E Deck.

"No shoes!" Fabrizio noticed this as well then, as he followed closely behind us. "You have mine," he paused in the middle of the chaotic hallway to kneel down and start unlacing his own.

Keely looked down at him, startled. "... Oh, no, what are yeh like! I'm fine, a lot tougher than yer either one giving me credit for," she rolled her eyes, but I could tell the gesture meant more to her than she was letting on.

Feeling my pulling back on his arm, Tommy glanced at me. "What is it?"

"Fabri's giving Keely shoes, hold on just a moment," I answered, throwing a grateful smile to Fabrizio and very happy just then for gentlemen. It turned out that Keely was meeting far more of those aboard this ship than she believe existed in the whole world. If we made it off this ship alive, which I was certain we must, I'd have to remind her of it.

Keely took the shoes from Fabrizio with a sigh as people continued to weave around them. "Well now that yeh nearly got us all stampeded, I guess it wouldn't be decent not ta show my gratitude." She slipped them onto her feet and tied them tightly as Fabrizio grinned broadly.

"They're big," he remarked. "But still shoes."

"Yes, thank ya." Keely replied quickly, standing back up. "Now, let's get up these stairs an' find the gate outta here."

We made our way up the stairs to E Deck, careful not to get shoved off by our fellow travelers' large suitcases and restless children.

"Life belts on!" A steward was calling out over the high-strung chatter in the hallway, pushing through the crowd while handing out large white vests. "Put ya life belts on! Have a life belt!"

Without hesitating, Tommy snatched up one and handed it to me. "Put it on."

Keely, a thought process ahead of me as usual, took one off the passing steward as well and began to put it on. "Well? Yeh heard 'im, put it on!"

Not wanting to once again be the one in need of consolation, I took a deep steadying breath to keep myself from panicking. Holding a life belt in my hands that was being passed out by a member of the crew wasn't helping my theory along that everything would turn out well. But I tried not to think about it and lifted it over my head, tying it.

As quick as we had been, we were still beaten to the gates by droves of people who were now covering the stairs leading up to the gate. Which... was closed?

"Now everyone just calm down!" a steward was yelling through the gates. "We'll get to you in a moment, one moment I say!"

Spotting Mrs. McGalliard closeby with Kerry and Meara, I pushed over to her. "What's going on, why are the gates closed?"

I could read a look of growing concern on the woman's face as she looked toward the gate then back at me. "I... I'm guessin' they're tryin' ta have some order ta this thing, an' let people out a few at a time so there's not a panic."

Looking back over to keep track of where Tommy was, I saw him pushing up toward the gate, not looking very happy.

"Where's he going?" I asked Keely, who had come to stand next to me.

"I think ta try to get 'em ta open tha bloody gate," she answered, watching.

"We'll get to you when we get to you, now everyone please, settle down!" the steward was calling out again.

"And when's that likely to be?" a woman holding a small boy retorted.

"What are we doing, Mommy?" I looked down to see that Kerry was tugging on Mrs. McGalliard's skirt.

The woman leaned closer to answer the boy calmly. "We're waiting, Dear. When they finish putting the first class people on the boats, they'll be starting with us; and we'll want to be all ready, won't we?"

Kerry looked uncertain, but Meara nodded with a sweet smile.

All I could do was stare. Was that what being a member of high society was truly about? All those years when I was given chances simply because I was taught I deserved it because of my father's success, were other people suffering because of it? I'd never once considered the individuals whose needs had been put below my own, but now it was staring me right in the face.

"...No!" I found myself protesting. "Absolutely not, there's no way they're keeping people down here so they can load the ones who happen to be wealthier on the lifeboats first! What kind of reasoning is that?"

"Aimee," Mrs. McGalliard brought a maternal hand to my cheek in attempts to calm me down. "It's simply tha way of it, Lass. Tis how our world works."

I looked down at Kerry who had snuggled close to Meara. "It's alright, Kerry!" she comforted him in a cheerful voice. "We just have ta wait our turn like Mummy said."

"Well," Keely spoke up. "If yer beau has 'is way about it, they'll be gladly lettin' us outta their hair." She nodded toward the top of the steps, where Tommy was embroiled in a heated argument with the steward on the other side of the gate.

Fidgeting with my necklace, I took a step backwards to see how high the water had risen since a few moments ago. I couldn't yet see any on E Deck, but I could still hear the sloshing.

"Right about this tall," I heard Fabrizio speaking to a gentleman closeby. "She has blonde hair, braided...?" Evidently the man he was talking to didn't speak English, because he only shook his head. Fabri began to repeat what he'd just said, this time using emphatic hand motions to illustrate.

I watched him for a moment sympathetically as it dawned on me that he was trying to find Helga.

"Fabri," I approached him. "Didn't you say her cabin is closer to the stern? Maybe we just haven't run into her yet, or... she could even already be on deck," I tried to give him my most encouraging smile. "I'll bet she's waiting for you."

He scanned the faces in the crowd once more, before finally nodding. "Yes, her Papa would have made her safe."

Hoping with all my heart this was a correct assumption, I returned his nod resolutely.

I understood. I had spent the last few days of this voyage falling in love with someone I never would have dreamed of being happy with at the start of it. But now that I knew that deep affection, that... love?... I couldn't a bit more let Tommy out of my sight than I could throw my lifebelt away.

"No," I saw him continue to argue passionately with the stewards along with a few other men. "No! That's not the way-" he was drowned out by the rising voices of other passengers.

"Just remember we're on a sinkin' ship, not runnin' through a field fulla daisies," I heard Keely's voice in my ear, a smile in her tone.

"Oh," I pulled myself from looking at him. "I know," I tried to chuckle, as ill-timed as it seemed. "I was just trying to hear what was going on."

"Let's move closer," she nudged me forward a bit. "An' anyway, we don't know when they might decide ta let us out after all."

Keely and I did move closer to the front, as Tommy and the other men continued to argue heatedly with our gatekeeper. I strained to hear what his replies were.

"Now we're just getting to you, stand back and wait for the word. As soon as we hear it's clear for you to come up, we'll let you pass," the man informed Tommy in a voice that sounded like he was talking to a child. It made me cringe.

"Who?" the man I'd seen earlier with the suitcase stood next to Tommy, addressing the steward. "Whose orders exactly are you waiting on?"

"The officers on deck, Sir, now if you'll kindly step back-"

"If they're on deck, how are they supposed ta know how fast tha water's risin' down here!" Tommy retorted. "We've got children about who're scared outta their wits, now let us out!"

"Not until the First Officer says so," the officer replied once more in a patronizing tone. "This will all go a lot more smoothly if you'll just be patient and let the people who know what they're doing get this sorted out."

The steward manning the gates alongside the one Tommy was addressing spoke up then. "Perhaps we could let the English-speaking lot go on through, Herbert, and just detain the rowdy Latins."

My anger was boiling over by this point, and I found myself pushing through to the front. "Oh, did you decide that for yourself, or did you consult the _First Officer_ about it?" I snapped. "And for your information, Sir, there are Latin men down here with much more the conduct of a gentleman than either of you will ever know!"

The steward who had spoken earlier flushed in what looked to be a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

Grabbing both bars, Tommy shouted above the chaotic crowd, "Yeh can't keep us locked in here like animals, this ship's bloody sinkin'!"

Right at that moment, an officer came down the stairs behind the stewards, holding a key. After making brief eye contact with him, the steward finally called out, "Bring forward the women!"

The officer began to unlike the gate.

"Aimee..." Tommy placed a firm hand on my back to push me through.

"Wait, wait!" I pulled away for a moment, turning to look behind me. "Keely-!"

"Right here," she answered me, coming around to stand in front of the gate.

"Women, children, hurry!" I reached out, pushing through the men to help gather more women to the front as the gates were finally opened. "Mrs. McGalliard!" I yelled out, my eyes searching frantically for her and her children.

I finally saw her, bending to button Kerry's coat. She evidently hadn't heard the orders above the noise. "Mrs. McGalliard!" I shouted even louder. She looked up then, eyes wide.

"Aimee!" Tommy had his arms around my waist now and was practically chucking me out the gate.

The next thing happened so quickly and in the midst of so much confusion that it took me a moment to realize what was going on.

Men began shoving the gates open wider in attempts to escape by droves. The stewards and officers, wild-eyed with fear and anger became combative as they attempted to shove back the masses. The officer who had opened the gate a moment ago grabbed an axe and used the butt end to drive into a man's forehead who was standing next to me, and one of the stewards pulled out a gun, pointing it.

"Close the gates!" he shouted, and the other men quickly did so before I could get close enough through the madness to slip out.

"Dammit!" Tommy angrily shoved men to the side in his attempts to get me out.

"Wait a minute-!" I looked to see Keely on the other side of the gate being overrun by the various others who had escaped, holding her hand out. "Open it back up!" she shouted to the officers who were still using whatever they could grab to beat the men back.

"Go!" a steward paused long enough to shove her. "You're out, now go!"

"WAIT A BLEEDIN' MINUTE!" she yelled in his face, looking back at me.

Trying to get my bearings on what had just happened and what it could possibly mean, I called to her through the madness. "Just go, Keely, I'll find you!"

She waited a moment longer, staring at me, then looking behind her.

"I promise I'll find you, just get to the deck!"

Finally, taking a visible breath, she turned and ran up the stairs.

I swallowed hard, feeling a sinking in my chest as I turned to see if the water had made its way to us yet.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do realize I'm taking the sinking slowly, but in my personal opinion, the sinking sequence is at least half of what made the movie as poignant as it was. So I mean to make it that way in my story as well. I'm not keeping perfect time of course, but close enough.
> 
> Btw, I'm trying like heck to keep up with how Helga's there, then she isn't, then she is, etc. Hope I manage it alright!

"Fer God sakes, Man, there are women an' children down here! Let us out so we can have a chance!" Tommy shouted in his anger, grabbing the bars again with both hands.

By this time, the throng of third class passengers building up in front of the gate was at an all-time high. I felt myself being pushed forward even more from behind, and was now pressed tightly against Tommy. Not that I would have it any other way at this point... our close proximity gave me the only comfort I could find now that it was becoming a reality to me that I may go down with a sinking steamliner.

When the officers manning the gate refused to acknowledge Tommy's exclamation, he pointing a finger in warning at them while backing away.

"Tommy!" I yelled, stopping him. "What are you planning on doing?"

"I'm getting' us out of here, Lass. I'm sick ta death of reasonin' with the bastards, tha only thing left ta do is make our own way." He stared back at the gate for a moment, then back to me, as if torn on what to have me do.

"I'm going with you, I want to help," I demanded through the chaos.

"Aimee, no!" he took my shoulders and stared into my eyes. "Yeh already missed yer chance once, I won't let you miss it again. Stay by tha gate, if we figure out how ta open it, I want yeh ta be tha first one out."

Bringing my hands up to place on his arms, I kept my expression firm. "Tommy, I've had all the 'chances' I ever wanted for half my life, and more. I'm not running out of here and leaving people to die. And I... I'm not leaving you."

As much determination as was etched into Tommy's face at the moment, when I spoke those words, I caught a fleeting glimmer of happiness in his eyes. Pulling me forward, he planted a firm kiss on my lips and held it for an extra moment.

I made no move to pull back first, as I felt more right about that decision than I had anything else in my life so far. But at the same time, this was hardly a place convenient for romance. Finally I pulled away. "We have to focus. How can we get that gate open?"

"Right," Tommy addressed the problem once again. Just then, he happened to glance down the stairwell. "Jack!" he took off as quickly as he could through the people toward, sure enough, Jack and Rose who were caught in the confusion at the bottom. I followed along quickly, taking note that Fabrizio had at last found Helga, and was sticking as close to her as could be managed.

"Tommy!" Jack's eyes widened in recognition. "Can we get out?"

"It's hopeless that way!" Tommy finally made it over to him as I struggled to keep up with his big strides.

"Well whatever we do, we've got to do it fast."

It was then that I noticed how soaking wet Jack and Rose both were. I had no idea where they had come from, but it could only have been from a lower deck. Was the water rising that fast? I took another deep breath to still my heart from pounding out of my chest.

Just then Fabrizio broke free of the crowd as well and ran over to embrace Jack in a relieved gesture. "The boats, they're all gone!"

I shook my head. "No, it can't be, they should've only started launching them a half hour ago! Maybe... an hour..." I added, realizing how much time really had gone by since the initial shudder we felt.

"Maybe there are a few left. This whole place is flooding, we've got to get outta here," Jack looked around frantically for a moment.

The three men stood there debating what to do. Feeling the chill from the freezing water which lay just around the corner, I wrapped my shawl about me more tightly and was about to regard Rose when suddenly a stern looking man broke into the circle and took Helga's arm quickly.

Her eyes widened as she looked back around at Fabrizio, who looked up from his discussion with Tommy and Jack. "Helga!"

The man, presumably Helga's father, uttered a handful of words in Norwegian and pulled her away with him.

Fabrizio started toward them with a couple brisk strides, then stopped, evidently not wanting to break her away from her father. His eyes practically shone with anxiety and devastation.

"Fabri, come on, Man. We'll find 'er," Tommy pulled him from his reverie, taking him by the arm. "Let's go, we've got to find another way!"

I held to Tommy's hand tightly as the five of us rushed in and out through a maze of hallways and corners, evidently remembering the other way upstairs as I now was for myself. Suddenly Jack stopped and looked down a particular corridor.

"Come on!" Tommy called back, watching Jack to see what his plan was.

"This way!" he took Rose's hand and cut a quick right. I had never been so good with remembering the way around down here, so I followed everyone else's lead, just trying to keep up.

The hallways were fullblown madness by now. At least a dozen different languages were flying past my ears as women were crying, men were yelling frantically to one another while trying to figure out their way around. It angered me to think no one, not one steward, had even bothered to lead everyone in a common direction. Of course, what use was that if we weren't going to be allowed through the gates anyway?

"Just go back to the main stairwell, and everything will be sorted out there." The annoying, patronizing tone cut through my thoughts once again as we finally found the alternate gate just to be turned away by its keeper.

This time Jack, in no mood to be friendly, confronted him, hands on the bars. "Open the gate."

"Go back to the main stairwell."

"Open the gate!"

"Go back to the main stairwell like I told you!"

Jack turned to look at Rose then, anger coming alive in his eyes like I'd formerly seen in Tommy, but had never seen in him. He whirled around and started yanking on the gate as hard as he could, swearing a mouthful of oaths at the steward before letting go and looking around wildly. Finally he ran over to approach a bench. "Fabri, Tommy, give me a hand here!"

"What's he doing?" I inquired, until I realized. The three of them were actually going to jerk the bench up from the floor and... ram it into the gates?

"Move aside, move aside!" Rose ordered everyone standing there, and I quickly grabbed the arm of an older woman to pull her out of the way.

The steward's eyes went wide, and he began issuing orders like a frightened schoolmarm. "Put that down! Put that down!" he kept repeating, though backing up a little at a time, evidently realizing it wasn't going to work this time.

I'd never seen three men work with such purpose as Tommy, Fabri and Jack backed up with the bench, and drove it hard into the gate.

"Oh my stars!" the older woman chirped, though was comically grinning as she watched them with fascination.

The bench hit the gate with a hard clang, threatening to tear it from the hinges.

"Again!"

The trio backed up, and rammed it a final time into the gate as it finally snapped off and fell to the ground.

"Oh, thank God," I murmured, feeling hope for almost the first time since this had all started.

"Let's go!" Tommy let the others ahead, then pressed me in front of him. I reserved my very dirtiest glare for the steward who stood there gaping at us as we passed him.

"You can't go there! You can't-"

I heard the loud snap of a jawbone and a grunt and turned around quickly to see him holding his face and staggering to the ground.

"Tommy, did you just-?"

He gave me a quick grin. "Go, Lass! We're free."

The five of us made our way as quickly as we could to the boat deck, finding it easy to do so as hardly anyone was still around to guard forbidden areas and make sure we didn't cross over into the promenades of the other two classes. I was starting to feel a tilt, however, during moments when we were standing still enough to sense it. I'd tried thus far to just keep my mind focused on making sure we got out alive, knowing myself enough to realize what a mistake it would be if I actually thought very much about the situation.

However, the third level of acknowledgment hammered my brain when I realized how easy it was to pitch forward when I stopped too quickly as we raced toward the bow area of the ship. I looked behind me then and started to notice small objects sliding slowly along behind me, and nearly threw up yet again.

This was real. Everything that had happened so far in the way of normalcy... getting up and going to breakfast, going out on deck, retiring to the general room after dinner... it was gone forever and replaced by a horrible twist of fate that was trying to take us down to the bottom of the Atlantic.

The fourth level came once we were out in the open air of the deck. Even though the rest of our company continued to race along, I broke my rule of sticking close to Tommy and wandered away from them, looking around me at the complete and utter chaos. Classes mixing with other classes, shouting of officers, boats being lowered into the water full of terrified people. I looked below me and saw how close we were to the water just then. I trembled uncontrollably, probably a mixture of fully realized fear and and the freezing cold air.

Odd-sounding when placed against the action going on around us, I heard the strains of what must have been the string quartet playing "Orpheus" somewhere on deck.

"William, please, jump in!" a frantic first-class woman sobbed from a boat below me, almost completely lowered into the water. "Just jump, we have room, why are you standing there?" she called up to her husband, who was holding his arms up to gesture to her over the racket.

"Darling, there are women and children left on this ship, I cannot. Not in good conscience. Don't you see?"

"No, STOP!" the woman nearly attacked the officers on her boat who were grabbing for oars to pull the vessel away.

I couldn't watch anymore. Would this be me and Tommy, even if I managed to find a boat at this late time? I inwardly railed against any God who would deal out this type of fate so soon after I'd fallen so deeply in love with this man, and he with me. Was it all a cruel trick?

"AIMEE!" I heard Tommy's shout, and pulled myself from my thoughts, turning around quickly. "What are yeh about, we've got ta find a boat left somewhere ta put yeh on! I looked about, and yeh were nowhere ta be seen, scared tha blazes outta me!"

My face crumbled then as I looked not at him, but at the man left standing a few feet away on the deck. He had taken his hat off and was waving at his frantic wife who was being rowed to safety and leaving him behind.

"Aimee, this isn't the time-" Tommy began, then turned around to look at what I was watching. It must have dawned on him, as when he turned back around, he took my face in his hands. "Listen, it isn't over. There are other boats, an' someone might be on their way ta save us now. But you, Lass, yer my priority. If none of tha rest of it goes tha way we want, I hafta get yeh in a boat and know yer safe before anything else."

"And I watch you stand here and wave at me like... like...?" I lifted a hand toward the man who might have been close enough to hear, yet whose mind was obviously a million miles away as he watched his wife's lifeboat.

"If that's what it takes, it's what it takes, Love."

I was shocked and almost angry at the way in which Tommy could accept this as I stared up at him.

"Aimee, Darlin'." He studied my face for a moment. "From tha minute I-"

"No!" I protested, feeling hot tears spill down my cheeks. "I... I won't let you talk that way, I can't hear it! Not when I was nothing but a spoiled idiot of a girl who cared about nothing and no one on this ship but herself, spending the first few days you and I might have been together trying to fight you away! Is... is this my punishment? Is this what I get?"

I spoke those last words not at Tommy, but more or less to the air above me.

"But it ain't like that, Love." Tommy continued to speak. "Tha important part is, yeh loved me in tha end, an' no matter what happens, I'll have tha satisfaction of knowin' I met a pretty girl on a doomed boat, an' even if nothin' comes of it in this life... let me at least go down knowin' I helped save 'er." He smiled at me, not letting me drop my head or pull away as he gazed. "Imagine what a miserable lad I'd be in tha afterlife if I knew I didn't even manage that much, eh?"

My chin trembled for a moment, but I finally nodded.

"Alright then, let's find a boat. An' this time, by lands..." he leaned down and hefted me up in his arms, "...yer not runnin' off on me again. Let's go!"

I clung to Tommy, past feeling foolish about being carried around as I just kept my eyes glued to the sides of the ship, seeing if I could spot any other boats being loaded.

"Music to drown by, now I know I'm in first class," Tommy snorted as we passed the orchestra that had been the source of the music I'd been hearing.

"There's one!" I finally pointed. "And there's Fabri!"

"AH, FABRI!" Tommy shouted, and the other man turned around and waved.

"Tommy, over here!"

We reached the thick knot of people surrounding the lifeboat, and Tommy put me down, pushing his way to the front. "Come on!"

However, this evidently being one of the final life boats on the ship, people were on the verge of mobbing it and Officer Murdoch was almost keeping busier yelling threats and maintaining order than he was filling the boat.

"Won't you give us the chance to live, you limey bastards!" Tommy was shouting.

I grabbed his arm. "Hold on, alright? He's making sure to keep order or whoever gets in that boat'll be pulled down by the masses, and we'll all die," I tried to calm him down. Tommy's Irish roots were certainly showing, although I knew he was just as terrified as anyone else and this was the way he showed it.

"Bastards!" he shouted one more time as Murdoch held his gun out.

My mind was pulled from the drama however by a young woman I'd seen in first class earlier in the day, nearly doubled over weeping to the point she was rapidly hyperventillating.

"Miss, please!" I put a hand on her arm. "Believe me, I understand. It's terrifying, but if you continue to breathe that way, you'll pass out and there won't be a chance of getting you into this boat!"

Fabrizio turned around and took me by the shoulders then, pushing me toward the front and the other lady both. "Come!"

I held onto the woman's hand to make sure she wouldn't flee in terror as Tommy took my other one and slipped something onto my finger, all the while pushing me in front of him.

I looked down to see it was a ring of some sort, and turned my eyes up to him questioningly.

"Forgot ta do this earlier. It was my mum's. I always said..." Tommy began to explain, then shook his head. "No time fer that, just know it was a good story. Please Aimee, keep it with yeh always, find my brother an' sister. Tell 'em I loved them."

Protests arose in my throat, but I realized they were all for nothing now. I leaned in to give Tommy a quick kiss and a nod, while looking back to the boat I was about to be loaded in.

Suddenly there was a loud gunshot to my left and I looked to see that a shot had been fired into a man next to me who was evidently wreaking havoc. I tensed up, finding that we were all being pushed forward from behind by men who were swinging onto the ropes in order to kick us out of the way and secure the boat for themselves.

I heard the bullet and felt it all at the same time, and next heard the woman beside me scream. I felt quite a bit of pain in my shoulder, but couldn't figure out why she was staring at me in horror the way she was when I realized what had happened.

The bodice of my dress was soaked with blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muahahahahahaaaaaaaa! NOW THIS! Am I not the worst? Anyway, it was meant to add the element of surprise, and hopefully I managed it. Only now that Aimee's essentially taken Tommy's bullet from the movie, what'll happen? She was shorter, remember, so it thankfully didn't hit her in the chest. But bleeding from a gunshot wound, in the freezing cold, and here we are all about to drown? 
> 
> YET, it's meant to make you think: if the bullet went to Aimee and not Tommy... will he live? HMMMMMM, until next time!


	16. Chapter 16

I was strangely calm, despite the fact that I knew I was going to die.

The chances of living before being shot were already slim at best with the impending disaster. But now I knew it for sure. I had never met anyone who had lived through being shot with a gun.

Tommy was catching my fall from behind, staring down at me with more horror in his eyes than I'd seen before. "Aimee? Aimee!"

It could have been blood loss, or maybe just the pain, but his voice seemed to be warbling and growing distant. I blinked furiously to keep his image clear, as that was the only thing that kept him from blending into the shapeless forms surrounding us.

"Get to the boat, Tommy," I murmured after being sure I heard another gunshot.

I wasn't quite sure what happened after that. I heard people talking both to and around me, but I found myself unable to process the words as quickly, and I really wanted nothing more than to close my eyes. My lids were so heavy, and despite the throbbing in my shoulder... I felt warm. I would slip off to sleep, if anybody would let me.

 _Is this what dying is like?_ I remembered thinking. Instead of stillness and peace, I was keenly aware of being jostled around a good deal, hearing talking all around me that didn't make a lot of sense. My eyelids remained heavy, but out of some sense of curiosity I suppose, I did open my eyes every so often to keep up with what was going on. At times it felt like I could see and make out objects very clearly, at other times it was nothing but a blur of color.

The other bit of strangeness was the thoughts I would have, blending in with all the madness of my other senses. Suddenly remembering a detail about dinner the night before, focusing attention on a specific song I had been trying to learn in my youth and coaxing the difficult melody along in my head.

"It's A minor," I either thought or said aloud, I wasn't sure which and was past the point of caring.

It stretched out like that for an indeterminable amount of time, while I seemed to drift in and out of sleep, usually coming to when I felt an especially wrenching pain in my shoulder. I had brief recollections of having just previously been in a dire situation - but couldn't be bothered trying to think of what, instead finding my mind focused on whether the brooch my mother had worn the day I graduated finishing school was onyx or black sapphire. I could see it in my mind so clearly, the first I'd let myself think about my mother in awhile.

At one point, I felt especially pulled to open my eyes. I did so, and was shocked at the clarity with which I could see a man's back facing me as he stood on something indefinable a few feet away. Something seemed very familiar about the vest he wore, the angle of his shoulders.. the back of the head... and when he turned to face me, I knew why.

"...Papa?"

My father smiled at me in a way that made my heart ache as he bridged the gap between us and knelt down. "There, there. Thank heavens that bullet barely grazed you. Quite a bit of bleeding that's thrown you into a little spell here, but as luck would have it, you were standing next to a nurse."

But I wasn't listening as much to what my father was saying as I was just staring in amazement. "... You're here. You've come to get me, it must be true what they say about dying." It felt as though I were speaking the words quite clearly, the muddy brain I'd had a moment earlier all but gone.

"I've missed you," he continued. "But it looks like I'll have to wait a little longer to get to see you for good. I have to say, I'm glad for that. You should really take time to look at that lovely ring on your finger..." he seemed misty eyed for a moment.

I watched him, confused. "Aren't I dead? Isn't that how I'm seeing you?"

His eyes crinkled in his old mischievous way as he smiled at me once more. "I'm so proud of who you've become, Aimee. Go forward and never backward." He stood up, and looked to be backing away from me. "Check Parker Mays."

"Parker Mays?" I reached out to pull him back, but his voice was beginning to sound far away and crackly, like it was coming from a phonograph box. "Who is that? What's Parker Mays?"

In what I thought was a lunge forward to catch hold of my father, I jerked awake and flailed for a moment when the first thing I saw was the starry sky above me. It felt as though I were falling up for some reason.

"Careful, careful!" I heard the almost-normal sound of a woman next to me. "We've about got that bleeding stopped, you shouldn't open your wound again."

Terribly confused, I tried to sit up but moaned in pain. I felt as though I had woken up from a long, strange, topsy-turvy dream.

"Shh, there now. I've got you all wrapped up warm. I'm a nurse, you know," the woman smiled down at me. It took me a few moments, but I finally remembered fully what had happened leading up to my semi-conscious state, and recognized my caretaker as the near-hysterical woman from earlier, the one I was trying to calm down just before...

"I was shot," I mumbled.

"You were," she replied, "and very nearly trampled after that. But your husband, he picked you right up and raised quite a row making sure you got a place in the lifeboat anyway."

My husband? I pondered the statement for a moment, then realized she must have been talking about Tommy.

_Tommy. Where's Tommy?_

"Oh wait, wait," I tried to sit up once again, this time stopped by my throbbing, spinning head. "We have to find him, which way did he go..?"

I rolled slightly onto my side and stopped at the sight. I realized now why I'd felt such tossing about earlier. I was, indeed, on a lifeboat, pressed close against the nurse and surrounded by quite a few people who were either sitting there staring into their laps, or crying.

The nurse's voice broke through my sorting of things.

"... He... didn't get on this boat, Ma'am. I'm sorry. He tried, but... there was too much madness."

As she spoke the words to me, I wished I could just close my eyes and go back to a sleep where I could find my father again. My head was now turned to where I could see a sight I never wished to see, particularly in the knowledge that Tommy may be lost to me forever.

I registered all the screaming first, something it had taken time to hone in on because we had been surrounded by it for so long. Men were rowing our boat as best they could away from the ghastly sight, but my eyes were now locked on it.

A hulking shape had risen up in front of us. It was the stern of the _Titanic,_ hard to recognize at first without a single light left to retain her former glory. Her giant propellers had risen from underneath the surface of the water, giving her the grotesque appearance of a soulless sea monster bent on taking as many lives as possible before retreating into the sea.

What was almost as bad as the screaming were the loud metallic groans and lurches that could be heard from the ship as the stern lifted higher and higher in the air.

"What's happening, why's it making that horrible sound?" a woman nearby sobbed.

I kept having to blink my eyes rapidly every so often in order to keep my vision focused, but I stared mesmerized as _Titanic's_ stern rose almost vertically before the grinding and snapping metal reached fever pitch.

Suddenly a man near me yelled, "She's breaking, ROW HARD!"

There were a few grunts as our little boat seemed to be pulling away in great strides, and I realized the men on the boat were working as hard as they could to row us away from the nightmarish sight.

"ROW!" the man shouted. "And IN! And OUT! And IN! And OUT!"

"It'll take us down with it, the bloody thing will! Suck us right down into the water!" an elderly man was exclaiming at a high octave.

"Not if you'll stop all that bellowing and work those arms of yours!" the man who had been shouting orders retorted. I realized now it was the officer in charge.

"Breaking" was the best way to describe it. The ship literally parted with a sizzle of cables and the tremendous spark of wires, losing the bow end to the depths. Predicting what was about to happen next just from the laws of gravity, I watched numbly as the stern rocked back, it's tremendous propeller blades slicing through the water as it did so, sending another fresh array of screams into the air.

A sob sounded off from someone in the boat, and I saw a woman take her young child on her lap and turn facing away from the catastrophe.

"That end'll stay afloat. Look at it!" one delusional soul shouted as the stern of the ship leveled out for a moment.

"No it isn't," someone answered, and sure enough... the back half of the boat was already raising back up in the air.

 _Lord, if Tommy's truly destined to die in this disaster... please take him quickly. Don't let him suffer as much as he possibly can until the very end_ , I prayed, watching the stern of the ship slowly sink into the water, screams still littering the air.

I couldn't bear to watch after a moment. Closing my eyes tightly, I waited for sleep to come again and claim me before I had to bear witness to the last trace of this ship vanish underneath the waters. But sleep didn't come, and there was no way to block out the screams and cries of those left behind in the freezing cold sea.

"Please!" I was able to single out a voice among all the hundreds of screams. "Help us!"

Still too weak and in too much pain to lift my head from where it lay, or even to talk, I wondered if there was any way for us to go back and pick up any more of those floating in the water.

The woman who was sobbing earlier voiced my question. "Can we not go back? Someone has to go back."

"Well it can't be us," the officer replied roughly. "Don't you see we're packed to the hilt already with our own? And this wounded one we've got, too. It's every man for himself at this point."

I lay there listening to the assorted cries for help, feeling each one stab me in a way a bullet from a gun would never have the power to. Death was all around us. It hadn't stopped when the ship went down. Trying my best to keep my mind off Tommy for the moment, I set to work praying for each of the souls I heard pleading for life in the distance.

My quiet praying lead to dozing, and after awhile I woke fully again to realize how quiet it had gotten. In the naivety of my imagination, I thought each of the people who had been thrashing around in the water earlier must have been picked up by various lifeboats, and were now safe. Why else would the crying be finished?

But I knew differently as soon as I saw the white spots in the distance, floating calmly. Life belts.

"They've frozen," I whispered weakly. "They're all frozen, all those people."

My companion didn't respond for a moment, either sleeping or lost in her own thoughts. Finally, she spoke hoarsely. "The water was just too cold."

I strained my eyes, catching sight of a single light that seemed to be floating just above the throng of corpses, and after a moment identified it as another lifeboat. I could hear mumbling coming from the general direction, and finally a series of calls from the officer on board.

"Is there anyone alive out there?"

The question was shouted multiple times, echoing on the iron cold air, but not once did I hear a reply of any kind.

"They're all dead," a man near me spoke up in a hollow voice. "It's too late."

Finally, just as I was hoping the officer would quit trying as it reminded us all that much more that all was lost, a few of us perked up at hearing the shrill sound of a whistle. It began very weakly, and at first I couldn't make out what the sound was. But steadily it grew stronger as the officer yelled, "Turn about!"

"Thank God for that," the nurse said. "At least one."

The quiet following the rescue was profound. Every so often voices could be heard from the other boats, calling out loved ones' names in hopes that they would answer from another location.

To ensure my neck didn't get stiff, I rolled back over with the nurse's help, gritting my teeth against the pain. I was breathless with it by the time I was on my back, and lay still as possible from that point on, staring up at the stars. What a beautiful night for such a horrible thing to happen.

"What will happen to us? Where will we go?"

"Is anyone coming?"

"It could be days before they find us. By then, we could all be dead."

I heard the hushed voices around me discussing our fate, but by this time, my mind was going in a direction I could no longer keep it from going in.

My hands were stiff, but I wiggled my fingers around to get the feeling back in them enough to toy with the ring Tommy had placed around one of them. I tried to feel for the details, tried even to lift my hand in front of my face to examine it, but it was too dark. Just knowing it was there would have to be enough for now.

I thought of his face when he smiled at me before picking me up to carry me to the lifeboat. I remembered the way he had kissed me in front of the gate just before that; his fierce protectiveness, his determination to get me out alive. I closed my eyes and clung to the remembrance of each feature, the scruffiness of the unshaven facial hair I had felt when I touched his cheek earlier... the sound of each word he had spoken. This may be all that was left.

What would the future have looked like with such a one? What adventures would have met us next? Would I have helped him out of his work shirt and boots at the end of a long day in the lumberyard with the same fluttering of the heart I had just thinking about it now? I thought about waiting for him to get home, sitting by a fire (oh, how lovely to think about fire!) while he bathed, then later of embracing him with my nose pressed against freshly washed skin that smelled of soap and manhood. I thought of the passion in his kiss under the night sky just hours earlier and wondered what secrets that first night of marriage might have held for us, lying pressed together.

My heart ached to the point I thought it might shatter if I didn't open my mouth to just simply put voice behind one word:

"Tommy."

I felt my companion's hand gently squeeze my arm with compassion.

It felt like an age of lying there staring at the sky sometimes, and other times dozing. Dreams and memories came and went, and I nearly thought it was yet another random patch of imagination when I felt people next to me stirring, and voices began to chatter excitedly.

"What's that in the distance? Some sort of light, what is it?"

"Has someone come to help us? Oh, glory be! It's another steamship! Hold up the lantern, Man, make sure she sees us!"


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo let me go ahead and just give a heads-up, there is a (non-lingering) reference to "Come Josephine" in this chapter. In case this disturbs any diehard Rose/Jack fans, please know that I in NO way intend to steal "their" song. I personally agree that that song holds a special significance for them. At the same time, the deleted scenes of the movie infer that it was a song they first started singing together after coming back from the third class party. In which case, it seems perfectly likely to me that Aimee would hear it at the same time, and even take a liking to it herself. 
> 
> Plus, it does kind of appeal to me the notion of there being a simple little melody from a very happy night aboard the ship that haunts more than one passengers' memory after the disaster was over with.

If I hadn't thought I was in enough pain before, I was absolutely certain I'd had my fill of it after the next couple hours.

The ship that came to our rescue was called _Carpathia_. She wasn't a tremendous vessel in terms of size, yet large enough for it to be a relief when she stopped her engines a good distance away from the vicinity of the lifeboats. Our boat did not have a lantern; the boat that had rescued the person in the water a few hours ago had had one, but if any of the others did, I wasn't able to see them. It would have been easy, had the steamship wandered too close, to run completely over one of the small rowboats.

Our officer commanded the men to begin rowing toward the steamer. As we grew closer to it, we could finally make out clear voices coming from the other boats that were doing so as well. There was still a lot of crying to be heard, some crying in relief... some still in the anguish of what had happened... and I would imagine a fair amount were doing a little of both.

I wondered why I wasn't crying. I had just spent the last few hours thinking about all I had lost in Tommy, and all that had happened to the poor souls who didn't make it to a lifeboat. Yet at the same time, it was all very surreal to me. A certain numbness had taken over my spirit for the moment, perhaps a very necessary means of getting me through this disaster without shattering to pieces.

"Whoa, Man, will you let us in ahead of you?" the officer was shouting to the lifeboat that was reaching the _Carpathia_ abreast of us. "We've got one badly wounded aboard."

Evidently having been motioned ahead, the officer took control of the rowers once again, issuing orders on how to turn the boat to where we would be met by the ladders being lowered down to us by our rescue ship. I could hear the impatience in his voice, and who could blame him? It was an unnerving job, taking responsibility of so many half-frozen people crammed in one tiny vessel, most having little to no knowledge of how to manage in the water with a boat of any kind. We had already lost one of the oars to the sea earlier in the night.

"You there," the officer addressed my nursing companion. "Get her ready to send up."

Up until that point, I had been laying in a rather awkward position with my head in her lap, and my feet on... what were my feet on?

I glanced down and saw that they sat in another woman's lap. "Pardon me," I would have flushed were I not so cold. I had paid little attention earlier to whom I was impeding upon by being the "injured one".

"Alright... Aimee," the nurse smiled at me. "I caught your name when your husband was shouting it. I'm Cordelia, by the way. I don't think I ever told you."

"Enough with the chitchat, on with it now!" the officer bellowed.

Cordelia gave a disapproving sigh as she helped shift me around. "Now. Can you sit up at all?"

I attempted to do so, having to grit my teeth so hard I could feel the pressure giving me a headache. Meanwhile, we had pulled up level with the ladder that had been lowered, and the officer was shouting up to a deck hand.

"She was shot, an accident! I don't think she can climb!"

The deckhand turned to look slightly behind him, seeking direction from whomever was there. "Right!" he turned back around. "We'll lower down a chair with some ropes!" The deckhand disappeared for a moment before returning with a small chair. I watched it, wondering how I was going to manage this, the whole time cringing at the pain in my shoulder.

"Alright, let's see what we can do here," our officer came over to me and rather roughly pulled me to my feet. I promptly slapped both hands over my mouth to keep from screaming, obviously causing even more pain.

"Sorry Miss, I don't mean to be a brute, but we need to be quick. Men, come help me." A few men stood up from their stations next to the oars and struggled in their own stiffness and through the crowded boat to take hold of the chair, a couple more of them taking me up awkwardly and setting me in it.

One man came dangerously close to grabbing hold of my wounded shoulder, and I couldn't help but cry out.

"You're doing well Aimee, just hold on," I heard Cordelia's voice.

Feeling like I would pass out again, my vision flashing white with agony, I scarcely heard any more commands. After being positioned and repositioned, trying to keep hold of the ropes with my left hand as I could barely move my right, I felt myself being lifted slowly in jerky movements. The first time I felt the chair list to the right, I nearly came out of it with fright, feeling myself to be falling.

"Easy, easy!" a man chided.

It seemed to take an eternity for me to reach the deck of the ship. Once there, I finally trusted myself to open my eyes, and nearly gasped at what I saw in the new light.

My dress was covered in blood, the bottom edges ripped to bind up my wounded shoulder in attempt to stop the bleeding. I felt ill at the sight of it, so I turned my head.

A few of the men exchanged words that I wasn't paying attention to, and the next thing I knew I was being carried through a door and down a hall.

"Don't mean to be forward, Ma'am," the man carrying me murmured. "But you're in no shape to walk."

I nodded drowsily, hearing quick foosteps coming up behind us. "Might I stay with her?" The voice was Cordelia's. "I owe this woman my life, and now I wish to return the favor. We've been crammed together on a lifeboat for hours, and I don't think I can rest until I know she's alright."

Despite the kind words coming from her, I wanted to ask what she meant by her owing me her life, but I was far too muddy minded for the effort.

"It can be arranged I'm sure," the man replied to her.

I was carried into a room just then, a warm room with a clean bed. My shoulder was throbbing, and I wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep so I could hide away from any bad news I might find out about Tommy or Keely in the morning. But it was not to be just then. The man left me alone with the promise that a doctor would be coming in the room soon, and left Cordelia to help me get out of my clothes.

We were still trying with tremendous, painful effort to get the sleeve off my shoulder without causing me to scream in agony, when the doctor arrived. He then proceeded to cut the dress off of me, soaking the material over my wound with warm water to loosen the fabric from it. Cordelia bustled around him, helping in any way he directed her too, before he began cleaning the wound. By this time I was through with all dignity and cried out freely, wishing suddenly I could hear Tommy's voice cutting through the nonsense. There would be nothing he could do for this, yet somehow I felt that if I knew he were alright, my own pain would be much more under control.

"There there, that's all there is to it, Love," the doctor, an older man with a cheerful voice, attempted to soothe me after he had my wound bandaged once again. "I've got a nice loose gown to put back over you, if this good woman will help me with it... that's it, thank you..." he continued as Cordelia stepped in to help me dress. "Now, this elixir will help with the pain quite a bit, and I would be very surprised if it doesn't also put you right to sleep."

Sleep. That sounded heavenly.

When I awoke, the first thing I noticed was my hand which lay beside me on the pillow. The light spilling in the small window caught something glimmering on my finger, and with a tremendous wave of happiness combined with a fair amount of heartache, I stared at it, mesmerized, before finally shifting a bit so I could move my hand above my face for a closer look.

The ring Tommy had placed on my finger was finely cut into the shape of a rose. Nestled inside the center petals was a small round pearl that glistened from its nest of antiquated gold.

_It was my mum's. I always said... no time fer that, just know it was a good story._

What story would Tommy have told me if we would've had time? Now I might never know.

I worked the ring around to where it was turned inward toward my palm, and closed my hand over it feeling that in a way, I was embracing Tommy by doing so. I looked over, noticing that Cordelia sat across from me, fast asleep in what looked to be a very uncomfortable chair. Outside the small window beside my bed, I noticed that the sun was setting over the calm sea. Hadn't it been early morning when we were rescued?

Of course. I must have slept entirely through the day.

"Cordelia?" I croaked the name, my throat feeling parched. I cleared it, swallowed and tried again. "Cordelia? I shifted as best I could without bothering my shoulder and reached out to touch her knee.

Her eyelashes fluttered and she yawned before opening her eyes fully. Once she saw me, she smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm, um..." I tried to sort through my still-muddled thoughts, reaching for the pitcher that sat nearby. She quickly leaned forward to help me pour water into the glass and bring it to my lips. The cool liquid soothed my throat, and before I knew it, I had drunk three glasses full before speaking again.

"You... are a true nurse," I smiled at her, handing back the glass shakily. "But you should be sleeping in your own bed."

"Oh I mean to, presently," Cordelia yawned again. "The bleeding in your shoulder is finally stopped for good. Just be very careful when you move it. The doctor's supposed to check in on you again soon."

"Cordelia," I began, taking yet another drink of water. "What makes you so steadfast? Why do you insist on staying with me? You saved my life, truly... but what did you mean when you said that I had saved yours?"

The fragile young woman sighed, somewhat shakily and when she looked up at me, I saw tears brimming in her eyes. "Aimee... I don't know if you'll understand, because so many people don't. I was serving as a naval nurse in Southampton, an ocean away from my parents and family. We... were always remarkably close. When I had to be away from them, and instead endure under the austere regulations of the navy... I began to buckle. I've been suffering terrible panic spells, where my breathing becomes labored, my head goes light, and it's just the most awful feeling in my chest I've ever had. The way in which the others ridiculed me for it made it all the more unbearable, and made the spells increase."

I nodded as she told the story, thinking that for all the goodness in this woman's heart, I could unfortunately see her having great difficulty being away from family and existing under military conditions.

"Finally, they got in the way of my job performance, and I was discharged home. I should be happy, right? But... instead, I feel like a failure. Then I boarded _Titanic_ to come back, and traveling alone as I was... my father paid my passage, you see... I had so much time to think about how wrong my life had gone, and how ashamed I was to go back to my hometown and face my family and friends. I kept praying that just one person aboard the ship would show me kindness, even just give me a smile..." she paused to wipe a tear away. "Then when we began to sink, you can imagine how panicked I was. I kept thinking how I wasn't ready to die, I hadn't accomplished the things in life I wanted to accomplish, never had the chance to rebuild my sense of self... when you came along. You stopped what you were doing in the midst of the great panic going on around us and made time to come to my aid," she smiled. "You reminded me that there are good people in the world, and I'm not alone after all, no matter how bad things may seem. It was that strength you infused me with that gave me such a sense of calm and purpose to do what I needed to do when you were shot."

Cordelia pulled out a handkerchief and was wiping her eyes, having turned at some point to full-fledged crying. I felt my heart warm toward this highly emotional woman, and I returned her smile. "I'm glad I could do anything to help, Cordelia. Thank you for all that you've done. I'll never forget it. But... I want to make sure you're taking care of yourself, too. Why don't you go rest, and if you so desire, you can look in on me later?"

She nodded, having dried her tears and putting her handkerchief away. "I believe I will go find a bed just for a little while." She was halfway to the door before pausing and looking around. "... I'm so sorry about your husband."

Her mention of Tommy tightened my windpipe. "... He wasn't my husband, but... I think would have liked for him to be. Very much."

Cordelia looked as though she had a few more questions for me, but smiled kindly as she let the matter rest. "Oh!" she said suddenly before turning back around. "I nearly forgot. Your dress was nigh to rags by the time we got it off you... I'm so sorry about that, but it was necessary to cut it off in order not to bother your wounded shoulder. Anyway... I suppose you understand why we tossed what was left of it away. The thing is, I'm so glad we checked the pockets first..." she slipped her hand in her own pocket, retrieving a small pieces of paper as she came back toward me with it. "It looks like you had some sort of note in here."

I took it from her, wondering where this could've come from. "Thank you, Cordelia. I understand about the dress, no worries."

She smiled once more before leaving the room, and I, as quickly as I could comfortably manage it, unfolded the letter. It was signed Sybil McGalliard. The handwriting inside was crude and uneven, as Mrs. McGalliard had mentioned to me once before about being unable to finish her schooling, but I was still able to make out what it said:

_Amy,_

_Kerry and Meara and I are goin back to our berth for a bed time story, and to wait out the nite. By mornin we will be in the arms of the Lord, so better to wait calmly holding my little ones than to fite this no-win battle with the gates. You're a strong girl and I know you will make it out. See to it my husband Seamus McGalliard knows we will see him one day on another shore._

_Sybil_

Tears spilled down my cheeks, nearly drenching the slip of paper I held in my hands. She must have slipped the note into my pocket during the madness. Oh, to be so selfless as to put the peace of mind of your children before your own survival. Sybil did that very thing, opting for Meara and Kerry to leave this world tucked safely into bed beside their mother than to be screaming and terrified as she pulled them along frantically trying to find a way above deck. For so many of the people I knew only yesterday, E Deck was likely as far as they ever got.

I thought about Cora and Mr. Cartmell then, heart clinching at the notion that they may not have made it out either.

Just when I thought I might cry out in anguish, not caring who heard me, there was a knock at my door.

"Yes?" I hastily made sure I was covered in all the right places.

The door opened and an officer entered, looking tired and harried. "Are you Aimee Satterfield?"

"I am," I replied quickly.

"Thank God," he let out a breath, wiping his forehead with a cloth. "A young Irish woman has been kicking up quite a storm demanding we see if we could find you-"

Through my tears, a wide smile broke free. "Is her name... Keely O'Donnell, by chance?"

Before the man could answer, he quickly jumped to the side to make way for Keely herself who was pushing her way in. She stopped just inside the doorway and stared at me. "... Oh, Aimee!"

I then saw what I couldn't have previously imagined seeing. Keely had tears in her eyes which spilled over almost immediately as she ran toward the bed.

Letting out a relieved chuckle, I opened my good arm in time to catch her in an embrace. "See there? I told you I'd find you! And you're the one who found _me_ ," I laughed in spite of my own fresh batch of tears.

"Bloody right I found yeh! Told those lads above deck ta get crackin' on huntin' yeh down!" she finally let me go, eyes going wide as she observed my shoulder.

Behind her, I saw that the officer was smiling at us as he left the room. He had likely had to give out a lot of bad news throughout the day, and was happy to see a joyful reunion.

I turned my attention back to Keely. "Yes, well... it's quite a story, but I was shot."

"Shot, eh?" she studied my bandaged shoulder, then grinned. "We're makin' a tough lass outta yeh yet."

By that time I felt as famished as I could be, which was right on time. Plates of food were brought down to both Keely and I, and as we ate... me practically shoveling food into my mouth in a most unbecoming way... I told her the story of my survival.

"Oi, that's quite a tale," Keely finally remarked, taking a drink out of her tumbler. "Well mine was easy enough... after I foun' my way on deck, that nice officer lad we met on tha ship... Somethin'-or-other Lowe?... he pretty well hoisted me right up and set me down in tha first boat he saw. Fussin' over me quite a bit, too, offerin' me tha coat off 'is own back," she rolled her eyes, shaking her head. I could detect a pleasured flush, however, as she finished, "Not a lot of sense in all that. What do I look like, a weaklin'?"

She stopped talking then, and stared at my hand. I followed her gaze to my finger which wore Tommy's mother's ring. For once, Keely seemed to have no words as she looked back to my face, studying me carefully for the answer to an unspoken question.

"No," I replied, averting my eyes to prevent yet another spill of emotion.

The doctor came back in at some point and dosed me once more with pain elixir. Keely and I didn't leave one another's side for the rest of the evening. Thankfully my bed was larger than I'd originally thought, as when I began to feel myself getting drowsy, she pushed me over slightly. "Yeh've got room enough, I'm takin' it," she commented, lying down beside me and pulling the covers up over both of us.

I smiled, trying not to let myself think of the multitude of sadness and loss that threatened the back of my mind as I cherished the fact that at least Keely and I had found one another again.

This time, however, the pain elixir failed to put me to sleep. I lay awake, staring out the window of the ship and watching the wide expanse of water all around us. Keely was fast asleep, I could tell by her breathing.

_Each time I closed my eyes, I saw his face._

I wasn't sure quite how late it was when I decided I could no longer bear it. Slipping as quietly as I could from the bed and having to give myself a moment to feel balanced, I slowly made my way over to the closet where the doctor mentioned leaving me a robe in case I needed it. It took me several minutes and a lot of grueling effort to get it on by myself. I didn't bother with shoes by then. Opening the door quietly so as not to disturb Keely, I went to the water closet.

My bladder was on the bursting point, so my discomfort seemed to ease off by half just in being able to relieve myself. After trying to clean myself up a bit... attempting to clear up even more discomfort, yet causing a good deal more... I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was still in the braid from yesterday, albeit loose and disheveled. There was a time when I would have closed myself away from the public eye looking as I did, but now none of my old values seemed to matter in the least. I had survived a great disaster... and had lost so much in the process.

I would never take life for granted again.

Knowing exactly where I wanted to be right now, I made my way out into the hall, wandering around until I came across a steward. "Sir... would you mind showing me where I could find a piano?"

The man observed me carefully, eyes stopping on my wounded shoulder. "Are... you certain you're up for recreation, Miss?"

I nodded. "I would just really like to be near one," I replied, not caring for how silly it might have sounded to him.

Finally he turned. "Follow me."

I did, yet so slowly that he had to pause several times in order for me to keep up. After a few turns, he led me to a darkened dining saloon, where a piano sat in the corner next to a window. "There it is, Miss." He went to turn on the lights, but I stopped him.

"It's alright, I rather like playing by moonlight."

He nodded, then turned and walked away.

I sat down on the piano stool, staring down at the keys and thinking of my father. His presence the night before had been so certain, the air so full of all the things I remembered about it; I would never doubt that it was truly him, and not a dream, that had visited me in my state of semi-consciousness.

What might it take now to bring Tommy to me in just the same way?

I thought about the first night he and I had danced. He had come along to pluck me out of my comfort zone and show me the fun and adventure that could be had if I would let my white-knuckled grip go on the high society life I had lost. I had been annoyed by his very presence at first, thoroughly irritated at the idea of someone being so whimsical, so able to be happy and fun-loving when I was so miserable.

Would I ever get the chance to tell him how sorry I was that I came to care too late?

There was no use, I discovered quickly, in raising my right arm to try to play the piano. It hurt far too badly. I lifted my left arm up to tinker with the keys anyway, finding the cool ivory against my fingertips acting as a balm to soothe my troubled soul.

Thinking about the nights in the general room, drinking and dancing, watching the arm-wrestling and merry-making instantly brought a tune to my head that I had heard one night, and was fairly easy to play with one hand.

_Come Josephine on my flying machine, going up she goes... up she goes..._

_Balance yourself like a bird on a beam, in the air she goes... there she goes..._

Unable to remember anymore of it, and lacking the heart to continue anyway, I moved my hand from the keyboard, letting it fall into my lap as I began once more to cry.

"Tommy..." I said his name aloud, then again. "Tommy, Tommy."

I could hear my tears landing on the piano keys with soft _plops_. "I'm sorry. For all of it, for everything. But I want you to know... I'm going to find your brother and sister. I promised I would, and I will. It may take me some time, but I'll search until I hunt them down." I looked at the ring once more, glittering on my finger. "Perhaps one of them will know the story behind your mother's ring."

"Yeh could ask them... or ya could just let me tell it."

My heart jumped, and I promptly straightened, blinking. I was almost afraid to turn around. Could I be wrong? Was my head still muddy enough to create what I most wanted in the world?

"It went somethin' like this." The voice came closer. "Sometime before she died, Mum came ta me one night an' said, 'Tommy... I want yeh ta settle down an' find yerself a nice lass'."

I gazed at the rolling waves outside the window, a smile playing at my lips as I finally decided to turn around.

"Funny thing it was, as I was already engaged ta a girl at tha time... but my mum must've known she wasn't tha one. I didn't argue with 'er, because I think I knew it too."

When I managed to turn around on the piano stool, emotion surged in my chest as I felt my entire face break out into the sunlight of a smile.

Tommy was smiling back at me, making his way slowly forward. The moonlight caught his face just right, and I made out those same precious features I had been trying so hard to set in my memory the night before. "So I kept it with me at all times. Somethin' told me when I was least expectin' it, I'd come across that girl. An' I'm glad I was ready, 'cause that girl... she was you."

I made a bumbling spectacle of shoving away the piano stool as I stood up, rushing forward. "Tommy!"

He laughed and caught me in his arms gently, evidently more mindful of my wounded shoulder than I was. "Careful, Lass, careful!"

"Tommy Ryan!" I placed my ear against his chest, comforted by the sound of his very heart beating, and brought my hand to his face to feel the scruff of his still-unshaven chin. "How long were you standing here?"

"Ah, not long," he chuckled. "... Alright, maybe a few minutes. Just watchin' yeh in that moonlight took tha breath right outta me."

My eyes met his then, and when they did, I found a wrenching sob take form in my chest and rise to the surface. Before I could stop them, more hot tears ran down my face as I clung tightly to him.

"Oi, Aimee..." he whispered, resting his forehead against mine. "Don't cry. Please don't cry like that, I'll do anythin' yeh want me to, just don't torture a lad so."

"You already have done everything I could've wanted you to do. You came back to me... alive and well... and Tommy, I'm never letting you leave my sight ever again," I cried.

"Oh? Is that a promise?" he grinned.

I nodded, finding myself laughing through my tears. It was a laugh that was borne out of a heart that was more full at that moment than it ever had been before.

There in the moonlight that filled the dining hall, Tommy's lips covered mine and I wasn't one bit worried about appearances or what anyone looking on might think. Everyone had their own choices to make, their own set of rules to follow. This was my very own.


	18. Chapter 18

_~ONE MONTH LATER~_

"Ow! You're twisting too tightly!" I chuckled as Keely was busying herself weaving white flowers into my hair to match my dress.

"Hush, yeh don't want 'em comin' out, right?" She sat on her knees on the bed behind me. "Oh, an' by tha way. Has anybody ever told yeh what ta expect on yer weddin' night? You'll be needin' ta know in a few hours..."

I giggled. "I'm sure it's pretty easy to figure out, Keely, but thank you all the same."

"No no, believe me, it's nothin' a lass is ever prepared for. Let me do yeh this service, it's tha least I can do since I didn't get ya a wedding present," Keely smirked, putting in the finishing touches with the flowers.

And so, she told me exactly what to expect, with a candor that caused me to blush to the roots of my hair.

"Thank you for that," I laughed at the end of it all, hoping my flaming face would calm down before the ceremony.

Tommy's uncle's small apartment was a bustle of activity. Things were being arranged and rearranged, Tommy's aunt was busying herself preparing quite a feast in the kitchenette, and Keely had been helping me for the last couple hours to prepare for the wedding. My shoulder had healed nicely over the last month, and even though the doctor told me it would probably always cause me pain when it rained, I should make a complete recovery.

Keely had gone with me to Bloomindale's to find a modest white dress for my marriage to Tommy, and even though I had remembered the store being on the pricy side, I had evidently forgotten just how expensive it really was until we got there. We took a quick look around and were just heading out when we were approached by an older couple who insisted on buying us what we had come in for. Keely and I had never quite grown accustomed to the vast amount of charity showered on _Titanic_ survivors once we got to New York, and I politely turned them down, thanking them profusely. But not taking no for an answer, the gentleman explained that they had lost their niece in the sinking while she was on her way back from finishing school, and they felt it was honoring her memory to show generosity on another young woman who was in need of it. That day I walked out with my wedding dress, glowing with happiness and amazed at the kindness of human beings all over the world.

There came a knock on the door shortly after Keely was finished with my hair. "Is tha bride all ready, now?" Tommy's good-natured Uncle Alban called in.

"We're ready!" Keely called out to him, handing me my lipstick. "Alright, I'm off ta sit down. Don't trip over anythin'!" she gave me a kiss on the cheek, and smiled mischievously as she opened the door and went out.

I hurriedly applied my lipstick, making sure to blot it well before hurrying after her to meet Alban, smiling up at him and taking his arm. "Thank you for this," I whispered.

"Ah, it's a pleasure! An' tha least I can do, seein' as yer keepin' my nephew outta trouble," he chuckled. "Look there, he's already cranin' his neck for a glimpse of ya. Better not keep 'im waitin'."

The ceremony was sweet and poignant. Tommy's aunt played the piano for me to make my entrance, and my heart surged as I caught Tommy's radiant expression. He watched me come toward him with a big, affectionate grin on his face, and was all too eager to take my hands from his uncle's when I reached him. Our vows were recited with the help of Alban and Eileen's minister, who had agreed to marry us, and the whole thing was topped off by a surprising move on Tommy's part when he dipped me slightly for the kiss.

"Oi, we 'ave children in here, Lad!" Alban chided, though laughing as Keely whooped informally. It was the moment I knew I had done nothing but right by marrying into a warm Irish family.

After a large dinner, dancing followed in which the doors to the apartment were flung open and what seemed like all of the tenants in the building, mostly Irish, drifted in and out of the room to join in on the fun. Eileen played the piano for awhile, then another man came in with a fiddle, and at some point a mandolin was brought in. It might have been as late as ten o'clock when people start drifting back to their own apartments, and Keely took leave to go back to the boarding house the two of us had resided in for the last month. An hour later, even Alban and Eileen had retreated to bed while I took to the piano myself and began playing spirited jigs for Tommy to dance with his siblings.

Fallon, ten years old, was a solid boy tempered much like Tommy, his cheeks rosy with spirit. Little Cait, seven, had beautiful blonde curls and a smile that had wasted no time in melting my heart.

"One more, one more!" Fallon pleaded with me as the hour grew late. "Play that one yeh played first again, what was it called?"

"Tomorrow, lad, tomorrow." Tommy picked him up and tossed him across his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, catching Cait in the same fashion with the other arm as she was giddy with laughter. "I have a bride I want ta spend time with before mornin'."

"Oooh, that means they're goin' to..." Cait gasped, "... kiss!"

"Aye," Tommy answered her as he began to carry them to their rooms, winking back at me. "Don't tell, it's a secret."

I laughed, waving goodnight to them as Cait blew me a kiss. I returned it, thinking of my happy childhood memories of Papa carrying me to bed in much the same fashion.

I closed the piano and waited for Tommy to return, looking out the window at the clear, beautiful night and thinking how blessed I was that so many good things had come out of something that had started out so frightening.

Smiling as I heard his footsteps behind me, I closed the curtains on the star-filled sky.

**A/N: I debated on whether or not to do this, but I think I want to. In the movie we find out what happens to Rose and Cal, I so deemed it only proper that we learn what became of Tommy, Aimee, and Keely ^^**

Shortly after their marriage, Tommy and Aimee decided to move out west to Pennsylvania where the lumberyards were abundant, and real estate was prime. Aimee did the best she could to persuade Keely to travel with them so they could stay together, but Keely took a liking the New York City the moment she set foot in it and stubbornly declined. She promised to stay in touch, however, and even to visit, "as long as I'm not bloody goin' anywhere near water."

After settling in Pennsylvania, Tommy quickly found a job in a lumberyard and Aimee began giving piano lessons on the grand piano Tommy had worked hard to buy for her as a late wedding present. They continued to raise Fallon and Cait as their own.

Come to find out, Victor Satterfield hadn't left his daughter destitute after all. In a nearby town stood Parker-Mays Bank & Loan Company, and remembering the mysterious phrase her father had left her with, Aimee went in and identified herself. The bankers appeared relieved, telling that they had sent her several letters following her father's death to inform her he'd set aside a trust in her name, but had never been able to reach her. It always remained a mystery as to whether or not Aimee's mother knew about the trust, and if she had, why she hadn't told her daughter.

Using only a small chunk of the money to put a down payment on a house, Aimee and Tommy made the decision for the rest of the money to go into a fund to help surviving _Titanic_ immigrants get a new start on life.

Meanwhile, Keely, who always said she didn't believe in good men, found one. Or rather, he found her. After going through an enormous hassle tracking her down, Officer Harold Lowe appeared at the front door of the boarding house she was staying in, hat in hand, and asked if she'd like to go to a show.

Months later, they married and he was quick to adopt Keely's infant daughter, Sybil. After some consideration which included Keely going back on her promise never to board another steamship, she and the baby sailed back across the ocean with him to his home in Wales.

Aimee never saw Rose again, but always hoped that she and Jack managed to make it through the _Titanic_ disaster together. Once, in the twenties when the silent pictures came to the theaters, she thought she saw an actress that looked an awful lot like her, but didn't catch the name.

Tommy and Aimee had a good life, but like many people of the time, they faced their share of hardship. Their first child, a baby girl, died of whooping cough at seven months. They went on to have three sons, the youngest of which was killed in combat in World World II.

Keely's husband went on to command a British naval ship in World War I, and they had three of their own children in the years following. He died in 1944, and Keely came back to America, this time to move close to Tommy and Aimee in Pennsylvania. For the rest of her life, she continued to talk about going back to New York City, but never did.

Tommy and Aimee had five grandchildren and were expecting their second great-grandchild when Tommy passed away in 1965. Aimee lived fifteen years beyond him, and when she died after a long bout of pneumonia, they were buried together.

Keely was still around when the _Titanic_ wreckage was finally discovered in 1985, and despite the emotion it evoked, agreed to appear in one of the first documentaries to come out about the disaster. At age ninety-six, the last year of her life, Keely Lowe was captured on camera telling her story in a hushed, age-warbled voice with her great-granddaughter at her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is dedicated to the Tommy Ryans, Fabrizios, and Coras of the Titanic we will never know about.


End file.
